White Nightmare
by Starsky's Strut
Summary: This is the sequel to White Death. Starsky was in an avalanche and is now in the hospital, recovering from his ordeal, or has his ordeal just begun?
1. Default Chapter

All usual disclaimers apply, I don't own the rights, I don't get money and this is for entertainment only. Please excuse any errors; they are entirely mine.

Hi All,

First off, I would like to thank all of you for your interest in having this story continued; this is the sequel to "White Death". I would like to thank (in no particular order) Teacher Tam, Kreek, Cheride, Jack Sparrow's Girl, Wuemsel and others for your encouragement.

**White Nightmare  
**By Starsky's Strut

He couldn't breathe. He tried.

And tried

When he sucked in the precious oxygen, he could hear it whistle through his narrowed air passages. He was cold. It was dark. He couldn't breathe. And, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move. It was cold.

Cold, so cold

Alone, very alone

Dead

Wrapped in a shroud.

Ready for burial.

No, not dead, he couldn't be dead.

I'm not dead I am not dead I'm alive! Don't bury me! 

Then hands grabbed him.

Cold hands

Lifeless hands

Clutching at him

Pulling him

Dragging him down

Weight rolled on him and increased. More weight; more bodies, cold and stiff, were packed on him and around him. Dead eyes stared sightlessly at him. Cold, dead bodies pressed themselves to him, trying to warm themselves back to life. Taking his warmth. Taking his life.

_Stay with us_ The dead beckoned, their voices sibilant.

"Stay with me" A lone voice broke through the chorus "Don't go"

I'm not DEAD! Panic gripped him in an Anaconda's embrace. 

He struggled with the corpses. His life depended on it. He battled with the arms. He pushed against the oppressive weight. He would not go without a fight. They would have to drag him, kicking and screaming to his grave. Fighting every step of the way.

Don't cut me! Don't bury me! I'm not dead! 

"Come back to me. Please don't leave me!" Whispered a lone voice.

_I'm not dead_!

"No, you're not dead"

_Don't bury me!_

"No one is going to bury you"

_Don't cut me!_

"No one is going to cut you"

_Promise me!_

"I promise, but you must promise me something in return"

_Anything!_

"Promise me you'll wake up"

_Wake up? Is that all?_ It sounded simple.

"That's all"

It was harder then it seemed. He tried and tried. _I can't!_

"Yes you can!" Forceful, stern

_HOW?_

"Follow me"

He struggled against the oppressive weight of the dead_ I'm trying! I can't move!_

"Yes you can" Quiet, firm

_HOW DAMMIT?_

"Follow me. Follow my voice" The voice encouraged.

It was a nice voice. Deep. Friendly. Familiar. ''_Kay, I'll try'_ He found it suddenly quite simple, easy to follow that voice. It was the easiest thing in the world to do. Just follow that voice. He was then able to breathe and he sucked in great droughts of air. The warm, friendly voice was a beacon, a gentle candle glowing brightly, guiding him.

He followed a long for what seemed like miles and he grew weary '_I'm tired'_ his body felt limp and loose around him, like a too large coat.

"Okay, sleep then, I'll stay here by your side and wait for you," The kind voice replied.

He trusted that voice and thus assured, he drifted off to sleep.

XXXX

Hutch eased his arms from around his friend and wiped a hand down his face as he watched Starsky calm down and slip into a peaceful sleep. Starsky wasn't quite in a coma and he wasn't quite able to wake up. He was trapped in a nebulous limbo induced by the hypothermia.

Starsky talked to Hutch and responded to his voice and touch, but it was more like sleep talking then real conversation. It was always the same. The same fears, the same responses over and over. The fear and panic of his brush with death was deeply imbedded in his friend's psyche. _How horrifying it must have been, to hear and know that everyone, including your best friend thought you were dead?_ Hutch pinched the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb.

Hutch thought back to what Doctor Chad Montgomery had said, after hearing of the mistake that the coroner had made, told Hutch "A person ain't dead, until their warm and dead"

Hutch nearly fainted when he heard that.

Doctor Montgomery had grabbed the tall blond's elbow to steady him and then told him "There have been many cases, just like your friend, that have made a full recovery. Don't lose heart."

"Why is it taking so long to warm him up?" Hutch had peered deeply into the short, round doctor's pale green eyes, gauging him, sizing him up, and judging the doctor.

"The rule of thumb is 'cold quick, warm quick' and 'slow cold, slow warm' Your friend must now tip-toe down a hazardous road to recovery, we must use caution, there are many mine fields along the way" The doctor then went on to explain that a body temperature of below 98.6 degrees can cause the body's chemical reactions to slow down and that various complications could take place and each could lead to death.

Hypothermia can take a while to reverse and Starsky's core temperature had gotten down to 86 degrees and he had been in a "metabolic icebox" for a while. He had looked dead, but was still alive.

The doctor said that Starsky should not have been able to talk, but he some how had. But now that the adrenalin, the probable reason for his seemingly miraculous feat, had worn off, Starsky's body was now in a sort of 'hibernation' state and would most likely stay that way until his core temperature got above 90 degrees.

The re-warming process had begun and special care had to be taken to keep him calm, as any shock or rough handling could send him into ventricular fibrillation, which meant that the heart was quivering. A quivering heart cannot pump blood through the arteries and veins. Cardiac arrhythmias would be a threat for sometime yet.

Hutch rubbed the exposed portion of Starsky's forearm, more to calm himself then the sleeping Starsky. He couldn't hold his friend's hand or any part of him that had been frostbitten. The doctor had told him that rubbing the frostbite area actually did more damage to the skin and that was due to the fact that ice crystals had formed in the tissue. Rubbing the affected area caused the ice crystals to break down the skin tissue.

Hutch gulped at that thought. He had rubbed the damaged hands a lot in an effort to warm them while waiting for the helicopter to arrive to airlift Starsky to St. Bernard Memorial Hospital. The thought that he had likely contributed to the damage that Starsky had already suffered made him want to vomit.

He swallowed hard and looked at the sheets that tangled around the brunet's left leg. The right leg was elevated and in traction and would be for a little bit longer. That was if it didn't have to be amputated. It had been deprived of proper blood flow due to the breaks in the bones and on top of that, the hypothermia had further restricted the circulation to the area.

That's what the hypothermia had done; it had sent the precious blood to the core of Starsky's body to keep him alive. But this was at the possible expense of his limbs, especially his right leg. He could loose his leg from the knee down. '_This is all my fault, I deserve to be tired'_ Hutch rubbed at his sore eyes.

He no longer had grit in his eyes. No, the grit had long since turned into boulders, great, big, nasty boulders that defied him to remove them. If he had cared to look in a mirror, which he did not, he would have seen how red his eyes were and how haggard his face looked. And his clothes, they were not worth mentioning. He let out an exhausted sigh.

He looked at Starsky once more. He then noticed a wet stain on the sheets where they had tangled around Starsky's hips and left leg. The catheter must have pulled free during struggle from the nightmare that Starsky had just experienced. It pained him to see his stalwart friend so terrified. The sheet was urine soaked and needed changing. Hutch pushed the call button and a nurse poked her head into the room minutes later.

"Hi, what can I do for you?"

"He needs new sheets" He pointed at the soiled ones. The nurse's falsely perky voice was like fingernails on a chalkboard to him. He gritted his teeth and began to remove the sheets, carefully untangling it from Starsky's good leg. _You look like a mummy; all wrapped up like this_ Starsky's face was wrapped as well. His eyelids had blisters on them and they were swollen. It would be days before the swelling would go down enough for him to be able to see out of them. Hutch sighed; the list of damage just kept going on and on.

"Oh no, not again!" More false perkiness and she cleaned the area and inserted a new catheter "I'll send a candy striper in with a change of linens" She exited after giving her patient a quick bath.

Hutch coved Starsky with a blanket. It was imperative to keep him warm. It would be another 20 minutes before the peritoneal dialysis; an important part of Active Core Re-warming, or ACR, would begin again. The doctors had made an incision in Starsky's belly and passed a hose into his abdomen under his skin. Warm water was then irrigated through the hose in cycles of 20 to 30 minutes at a time. What this did was help his liver warm up so that it would be able to deal with the toxins that were flooding his body as a result of his profound hypothermia. Warmed, humidified air rounded out the ACR.

Hutch had learned more about frostbite and hypothermia then he had ever wanted to. He had learned that frostbite was something like a heat burn. It could very in thickness. It could be shallow and affect just the surface of the skin or it could freeze right down through the bone. It would be six to eight weeks before they knew what flesh was viable and what was not. Doctor Montgomery had an adage for that as well "Frostbite in January, amputation in July"

Hutch choked down the bile that rose in his throat. Amputation. He had promised Starsky that he would not be cut. He might have to break his promise.

He ran his hand through Starsky's curls '_why do I keep making promises I can't keep?'_

He went over to the sink in the room and washed his face and hands. '_Bet I could use a bath, I worked up quite a sweat digging for you' _Hutch moved back to Starsky's side and sat down. He leaned back in the cushioned chair and closed his eyes to rest them, maybe the boulders would shift a little and his eyes wouldn't hurt so much. It was actually a very comfortable chair. He drifted off.

XXXX

Doctor Montgomery peeked into the room, and smiled as he saw the blond detective nod off. He had provided the chair himself, after having seen first hand the benefit of having the blond in the room with his patient. Anything that helped his patient, he would see that the patient got it.

He had noticed immediately the effect that the blond had on the brunet. His patient got worse if the blond were out of the room for too long. However, the blond was going to be a patient of his before long, if he didn't start to take care of himself. An overhead page interrupted his thoughts and he hurried down the hall to assist the ER doctor.

XXXX

"This is WCAL California Action News, where our motto is 'News as it Happens' I'm Berry Brockman. We are here at St. Bernard Memorial Hospital, and 'hot' on the trail of the last known survivor of the Snow Village Ski resort tragedy. We understand that the last person that was pulled from the cold jaws of death was at first… thought to be dead. An autopsy was about to be performed on that poor soul when a friend arrived just in time to stop it" Berry Brockman drew a finger across his neck in a 'cut' gesture. "How was that?"

"Brilliant, Berry, just like all of your intros, loved the dramatic pause, just fabulous" Rob Baker, the WCAL cameraman knew just what to say. He always said the same thing and Bigheaded Berry bought it every time.

"You don't think I need another take, do you? How was my hair?"

"Fake, as always, just like your smile" Rob whispered as he pretended to check his camera.

"Did the wind mess it up?" Berry checked his 'do' in the news van's rearview mirror.

"Now, mention the teeth-" Rob muttered as he polished the spotless lens.

"Were my teeth clean? Nothing stuck in them?" Berry ran his tongue over the pearly whites, checking.

"They're capped" Rob whispered once more, still pretending to work on the lens.

"What was that?" Berry finished checking his teeth in the mirror and looked over his shoulder to the cameraman.

"They're clean" Rob proceeded to check the film. He had plenty. He always had plenty. He had to. 'Bigheaded' Berry was a perfectionist and an egotist and piss-me-off-ist. Rob suppressed his chuckle. And for some reason, some mystery he couldn't fathom, the public loved Berry. If they only knew the real Berry Brockman, Rob sighed.

"Well, what do you say we go in and talk to the frostbitten man of the hour?" Berry lightly punched Rob on the shoulder and chuckled. "Let's give that lucky bastard his 'fifteen minutes of fame' with me at his side. Hey, do I have an eight by ten glossy in that folder? I'm sure he's a fan. I'll give him an autographed copy! That'll make his day, huh?" Berry signed the photo of himself with flourish.

Rob rolled his eyes that were now hidden by the camera that he conveniently moved to his shoulder the right time. "Let's make some news!" He chirped as he settled the heavy camera on his shoulder, making minor adjustments in the apertures and settings for shooting indoors.

"Hey Rob!"

"Yeah, Berry?" He fiddled with the shoulder strap.

"What do you call a frozen police officer?" Berry could barely contain his grin.

"I don't know. What do you call a frozen police officer?" '_God, I hate theses jokes_.'

"A Cop-sicle! Get it? Popsicle, cop-sicle. Ha! I ought to be a comedian! I am sooo good!" Berry laughed. He had to get his jokes out now. He had another one of these pain-in-the-ass Human-interest stories to do.

He checked his pockets for his notes and questions. He made sure that he had his breath mints and a couple of extra pens. He knew that there would be adoring fans of his in there. He hated to disappoint his public. "It's show time Rob! Roll'em!"

XXXX

Hutch was awakened by the sound of the door to Starsky's room being opened. He lifted his head and blinked at the bright beam of light from the shoulder camera "W-what's goin' on here?" he used his right hand to block the light from his eyes, totally confused by the interruption of his desperately needed sleep.

"Rob, focus on the one in the bed, he's the guy I want to interview" Berry moved to the injured man's side, opposite the blond man that had been in the room. "This is Berry Brockman, coming to you from the room of the last known survivor of the Snow Village Chalet disaster. I am about to have an exclusive interview with-"

Hutch stood up and rounded the end of Starsky's bed and shoved the cameraman out of his way "You can't be in here, get out!" his hissed at the intruders. He grabbed the man with the microphone and pulled him away from the bed "OUT! Now! He is to have complete silence… any shock could cause-" one of the machines monitoring Starsky went off interrupted the blond's quiet tirade.

He watched as Starsky's body stiffened and then began to convulse. He let go the interloper's arm and hit the call button. With that task accomplished, he once more directed his fury at the intruders, angry beyond words now, and he shoved the pair towards the door. "Get OUT!"

"Hey! Let go! You can't do this to ME! I'm Berry Brockman of-"

"I don't give a flyin' fat rat's hairy ASS who you _are _or who you _think_ you are… But know this, if my partner-" Hutch didn't finish the sentence as behind him, he heard a rattling noise and turned to see his partner shaking so hard in the bed, it rattled. "Starsk…" he ran back to the brunet's side and the only thoughts in his head were ones about his friend's current condition.

"Starsk, Starsky… listen to me… it's okay, s'okay now. I'm here" he gently grasped the quivering upper arm "Listen to my voice, hear me, oh God, please let him hear me" He focused so hard on his convulsing friend; Hutch forgot everything else.

Including the fact that he wasn't alone.

The reporter and the cameraman were still in the room.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Hi All!

Thanks for all of your encouraging reviews; I sincerely hope you will continue to enjoy the story. –_Blush!_ -

Pawpad! You're Back! I missed you! Please post 'Red' on FFN, please?

Special thanks to Kreek and _(small voice)_ wuemsel -_Hugs! -_ You two know why –_Wink_-

**Chapter 2**

Starsky shuddered. He was alone, again.

And cold, again

Where was the voice? The kind voice, the familiar voice? His… guide?

_Hello? Where are you? Can you hear me? Don't leave me!_

Where was the voice? He tried to calm himself down, he looked around, trying to get his bearings and for the first time noticed his surroundings. Or the lack of them. He was surrounded by white. A lot of white. A whole lot of white … nothing.

_Where am I? Where is this… place? What is this place?_

"It's okay, s'okay now. I'm here"

_You're back! Where am I? _

"You're in the-"

_It's a trick don't listen to him!_ A new voice warned.

_Trick? Don't listen to who?_

_Him! Don't listen to him!_

A cool hand stroked his face, he twitched away, it was too much like the cold, dead hands that had grabbed at him before.

_It's doesn't matter who he is! It's best not to know_

He knew that this voice was different then the other voice. _Can you tell me who you are?_

_Names have power, don't use them, it's not safe, it can even be very dangerous if someone finds out who you really are_

_But…_

"Come back, buddy, please come back" the voice was soft, beckoning

He listened to that voice; it was a soothing voice, familiar

_NO! Don't listen. It's a trick! He's just trying to trick you_

Starsky moved towards the pleasant sound of the voice _I think you're wrong _he kept moving towards it.

"That's good buddy, come back, please come back"

He walked towards the sound, the pleasant voice _I'm coming, wait for me_

"Always"

XXXX

In the white nothing, two converged and conversed.

_(You lost him!)_

_No, I didn't… he'll be back, I have to win his trust, then he'll follow us instead_

_(You had better be right about that)_

_I am, we tried force but it didn't work. We need to try to convince him to stay _

The other entity remained silent, pondering, it nodded in agreement and then they separated

XXXX

The monitor went back to its normal beeping pattern. Hutch released the breath he didn't know he had been holding.

He gently brushed the backs of his knuckles over his friend's furrowed brow and breathed a sigh of relief as the lines smoothed out once more. Starsky's responses had been a little more confused this time. He had been a little slower to respond. What could that mean? Hutch dropped his head into his hands. He was so tired.

"That was touching! Tell me you got that on tape Rob, please?" Berry thought the whole scene was schmaltzy. The viewing public would love it. Alls he needed now were a few sound bites from the survivor and he could wrap this story up.

Rob nodded mutely. _Just think of the money Rob old boy; just think about getting your paycheck this Friday… _

Hutch whipped around in the chair "What are you STILL doing in here? I told you to GET OUT!" He got to his feet and strode towards the interlopers. That someone else had been privy to that private moment, bothered him. It bothered him a lot.

Berry held his hands up in front of himself, palms facing outward "Okay, we were just leaving, come on Rob" He opened the door and exited.

The cameraman followed him, giving the blond an apologetic look before exiting.

Hutch shook his head in a disgusted fashion and went back to his sleeping friend's side; he heard the door open… if it was that damn reporter… he tensed, ready to physically toss the reporter from the room if necessary.

A white-capped head popped around the edge of the door "Hi! You buzzed, did you need anything?" it was the same nurse as before.

Hutch nodded at her "Could you check him please? The alarms went off on this monitor right here, it's not doing it now, but it was, I just want to make sure he is okay. Oh and there was a reporter in here-"

The nurse let out a joyful squeal "Berry Brockman! You got to talk to Berry Brockman? You are so lucky!" she glanced at the printout from the monitor in question "I wonder if he would give me his autograph? That would be so cool! Wow, Berry Brockman… he is just so dreamy…" she clasped her hands over her heart and batted her eyes.

Hutch gawped her in disbelief "He barged in here, without permission and was going to try to interview-"

"WOW! You got an interview with Berry!"

Hutch glanced at her nametag "Look, Melissa, I don't want him in here. Doctor Montgomery said that Starsky needed his rest and NO interruptions, it could k-kill him" he turned his eyes back to his sleeping friend.

"Um, right, okay… do you need anything else?" Melissa glanced at the door. Obviously wanting to be anywhere else but here.

"No, I-"

"Good! Maybe I can catch him before he goes" Nurse Melissa scooted out the door and down the hall to look for Berry.

Hutch glared at the door as it slammed shut. He would be speaking to Doctor Montgomery about the reporter and the nurse. He turned back to Starsky "Great, we're here all of …" he dug in his pocket and pulled out his watch and read the time "wow, has it really only been that long? Feels like it should be much later than that"

He stifled a yawn and sat down in the comfy chair "Starsk, I gotta get some rest, they'll be in for your next treatment-"

The door opened and an intern and a different nurse entered.

"Um, looks like _now_ is your next treatment, buddy" Hutch stood back up, giving the comfy chair a soulful look.

"You'll have to leave now," the intern said and he started to hook up the machine that would pump the warm water through the tube in his friend's abdomen as part of the ACR treatment.

"Yeah, I know the drill. Do you know where Doctor Montgomery is?" Hutch needed to talk to him.

"He's in surgery right now. Is there anything I can do?" the intern asked as he adjusted knobs and dialed in some number on the machine.

Hutch looked at the intern. He just looked so… young. Well, young help was better then no help "Keep that reporter out of this room. I know that the doctor would not want him in here disturbing his patient"

"Gottcha, um, could you…?" the intern made a shooing motion with his free hand.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm leaving, before I go, do you know where I could pick up a change of clothes?" he pulled at his sweat stained and stinky shirt.

The nurse chimed in "There's a Goodwill store a block away, it's across from Gus's Gas Station, turn left once you get outside of the hospital lobby"

"Thanks" Hutch pulled out his wallet and checked it as he left the room. He had forty dollars, plenty for the used clothing he would find at the Goodwill store. And enough for food for a few days… he could always get more money if he needed it. He headed for the elevator.

XXXX

Starsky stopped. _Where are you? Hello? Talk to me please_…? the voice was gone. His guide had left him again. _He'll be back_. He sat down to wait.

_Are you sure?_

He startled at the sound and tried to see the speaker _Yes. My… guide… will be back_. He was positive; the knowledge was bone deep and engraved in his heart.

_Well, as long as you're sure…_ the new voice sing-songed

Starsky felt the visitor move away, he didn't want to be alone, all alone in this white… space. _Wait, don't go_

XXXX

Hutch rifled through the bins and racks at the Goodwill store, trying to find clothing that fit AND that didn't make him look like a 1950's reject.

"Ten minutes to closing time!" The clerk called.

He pushed through the racks some more. _Ten minutes? Sheesh! How could he find something decent to wear in-?_

"I'm sorry sir, you'll have to purchase something now or come back tomorrow, we're closing" The little old lady clerk tugged gently at his sleeve.

"Wait just a second here, you said that I had ten minutes" he waved his right index finger in her direction.

"Yes sir, I did and that was ten minutes ago" she nudged the finger away from her wrinkled face with an equally wrinkled hand.

"That was never ten minutes!" he moved his finger back.

She pushed it away again "Yes it was young man, didn't your mother ever teach you to tell time? Now purchase what you have in your hand or leave" She crossed her arms over her tiny chest and her small foot tapped on the linoleum tile.

Hutch grimaced as he looked at the polka dot shirt and striped pants, "Uh… please, all I need is just a few more-"

The lady grabbed the shirt and pants and hustled over to the cash register and rung up the total "That'll be three dollars, thank you for shopping Goodwill!" she placed the clothing in a used plastic bag and handed it to him with one hand and held her other hand out, palm up, to collect her money.

Hutch rolled his eyes and dug out the three dollars. He took the bag of clothing "I'll be back tomorrow"

"Wonderful! I'll see you then!" She put her hand in the middle of his back and pushed him out the door "Thank you for your patronage!"

The door closed behind him and there was an audible –click- as the lock slid into place. A wizened hand flipped the sign from –**Open**- to –**Sorry! We're closed**-

Hutch looked into the bag, good grief! Those were some ugly clothes. He would have to bring them back tomorrow and exchange them for better ones, which shouldn't be too difficult. A cold gust of wind swirled around him and he caught a whiff of himself. _Yuck! I have got to take a bath and get my clothes washed. _

He decided that the only thing he could do was make use of the shower in Starsky's bathroom and wear the God awful clothes while he washed his at the Laundromat he spotted next to Gus's Gas Station.

He checked the sign on the door of the Laundromat, good, it would be open until eleven. Plenty of time to check on Starsky, shower and get his clothes washed before the place closed for the night.

He headed back to the hospital at a jog. He just hated to leave his friend alone for too long. It just didn't feel right somehow. Maybe it was because Starsky had nearly had an autopsy done on him _before_ he died. Hutch sped up, bad things happened whenever they were apart.

XXXX

Starsky had talked to his visitor. He did all the talking and the visitor just listened. But at least he wasn't all alone. After a while, he drifted off to sleep.

The visitor departed to meet up with the other.

_(You are wasting time!)_

_No, I'm not, I'm giving him time to get used to me, he needs to trust me_

_(Why?)_

_I have been watching and listening. He trusts the one he calls his 'guide' that trust must be broken before we can claim him_

_(You had better be right about this)_

_I am_

XXXX

"There he is! Now Rob, get some tight shots of us, I want the viewers to be able to see the anguish on his face and the concerned looks I will give him, the stupid viewers just eat that shit right up" Berry pulled his comb out and ran it through his hair once more, he got out his breath mints and popped one in his mouth. "Roll 'em"

Rob rolled his eyes and tightened the focus onto his least favorite reporter. He had a job to do and his daughter needed braces.

"This is Berry Brockman, live, here at St. Bernard Memorial hospital. Since I am unable to interview the last known survivor as the doctors say his condition is still critical, I will be speaking to his friend, the one who pulled him from the icy grip of death. Detective Hutchinstein, May I have a word with you?"

Hutch brushed past the pesky reporter and hustled himself off to Starsky's room. He didn't have time for that idiot.

Berry didn't miss a beat "There you have it folks, there goes the very picture of a concerned friend. For how can one express their profound grief in mere words? What that poor man must be going through… I truly feel for him" Berry wiped his eyes with his handkerchief "Please pray for Detective Hutchinstein and for the recovery of his friend. This is WCAL California Action News, Berry Brockman, signing off… back to you Carol" Berry put down his microphone.

Rob gave him the 'all clear' to signal the reporter he was off the air.

Berry put his mic down and put his handkerchief away. "HA! He's good! He's really good. But I'm better. He will talk to me soon. Hey Rob, did you book me a room at the motel? I hope it's better then the last one you got me, that bed was too lumpy."

Rob took the camera off his shoulder and muttered, "The bed wasn't the only thing in that room that was lumpy, your head has more lumps"

Berry didn't hear the cameraman as he spotted some nurses and civilians gathering around the News van. _Ahhh,_ his adoring fans. He plastered a smile on, popped another breath mint and went to see them.

XXXX

"Hey Starsk, I'm back" Hutch strode over to his friend's side and brushed back the dark curls off of his face. "How're ya doin' buddy? Miss me? Hope not… I had to get some different clothes, mine stink. 'Course the ones I bought stink too, but just in a visual way. I'm gonna shower and change, then I gotta leave again, but just long enough to throw these clothes in the washer, then I'll be right back, I promise" he patted the exposed arm.

Hutch entered the tiny bathroom and shucked his clothes, he would have to go 'commando' (without his underwear) until his clothes were washed. If this ordeal went on for any real length of time, he'd have to buy some underwear. The water felt wonderful on his tired, aching body. He could almost fall asleep standing up under the gentle almost massage-like feel of the warm water.

He leaned against the wall and inhaled the moist warmth.

XXXX

"…Miss me? Hope not…"

_Yes, I missed you, where were you?_ His guide kept talking; he didn't seem to be hearing him this time.

"…I gotta leave again… I'll be right back, I promise" the smooth voice drifted away once more

_Wait! Wait for me… don't leave me!_ The white nothing surrounded him and then the edges of it began to turn black. Black and cold, like before. Cold, dead things grabbed at him. Pressed cold lifeless flesh against his meager warmth. Pulling it from him. Pulling his life from him. Dragging it away.

_Help! Help me… please… help _Where was his guide? He needed him; he needed him right now! His breathing became panicked, he could hear himself wheezing, struggling to for each breath.

_I'm here, I'll help you_

_Visitor? Is that you?_ Starsky was gently pulled away from the black cold.

_Visitor? Yes, you may call me that_ The newly dubbed Visitor nodded and smiled discreetly. A name. It was the first step in gaining his trust. 

The black cold changed slowly back to the white coolness. Starsky could breathe easier once more. _Thanks_

_It was nothing, really_

_It wasn't nothin' ta me!_ The white space was back. Whiteness all around, up, down, left and right. All was white.

The Visitor noticed _Calming… isn't it?_

Starsky looked about _Not really, kinda boring, if ya ask me_.

The Visitor smiled _It's… home_

_You need a new decorator_

The Visitor laughed, _No, I like it this way_

Starsky sat down

_What are you doing?_

_I'm waiting _

_Waiting for whom?_

_My guide _

_Your guide?_

_Yeah, he's gonna lead me outta here… no offence _

_None taken. Do you know where he is going to take you?_

Starsky had to think about that for a bit, where was his guide taking him? _I don't know _he shrugged _outta here, I guess_

_Are you sure you want to leave?_

_Yes. I think… I mean… yes, why wouldn't I want to leave? _His visitor was starting to confuse him.

_Oh… nothing _The Visitor shrugged

Starsky rolled his eyes _Now when people say 'nothing' and shrug, they ALWAYS mean that it's SOMETHING, so spill it and tell me what it is_

_I didn't want to tell you this. The place where your guide will lead you… well…_

_Well WHAT?_ Starsky was growing impatient

_Well, it's just that I heard that there is a lot of pain there_

_Pain?_ That didn't sound good

_A lot of pain_

Now it sounded even worse _There's pain there?_

_A LOT of pain_ The Visitor reiterated

_Why would my guide take me to some place with pain?_ Starsky looked over at his visitor _Correction 'a lot of pain' as you say…_

_I don't know. I guess that's something that you will have to figure out. I know I never could… figure it out, that is_

Starsky felt the presence of his guide and stood up; ready to be led to wherever his guide chose to take him.

"Starsk? Starsky? I have to leave again, I'll only be a few minutes and then I'll be right back, okay?"

The soft voice of his guide soothed his confusion. _Okay_. He sat back down to wait.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Hi All,

Thanks for the encouragement and reviews; they are very much welcomed and enjoyed and I sometimes get some of my best ideas from them. ;-)

Starskysgal40 – Yeah, you've got it, it's a 'tug-o-war with Starsky as the rope.' Good metaphor! Wish I'd thought of that…

Special thanks to the usual suspects: Kelli, Kreek, Eli and wuemsel.

**Chapter 3**

Hutch was glad that his coat covered the hot pink and purple polka dot shirt, it was bad enough that his ugly orange, yellow and neon green striped pants showed from beneath his winter coat. The pants were embarrassingly short and left his ankles showing. Thank God no one would ever see him in his new and VERY temporary getup. Though, Huggy might fall in love with it. Hutch chuckled to himself as he headed out of Starsky's room.

All he had to do was run to the Laundromat, put his real clothes in the washer and run back. It would take about a half an hour to for the stuff to wash. Then he would run back, stick the wet stuff in the drier and run back to Starsky's room. And back one last time to pick up his dry stuff. Piece of cake.

He should be out of this disgusting set of clothes in roughly… he checked his watch, about an hour and a half. It was about one and a half hours longer than he wanted it to be, but it couldn't be helped. He exited the hospital and dashed down the sidewalk to the Laundromat, carrying his clothes tucked under his arm like a quarter back trying to make a touch down.

XXXX

Berry Brockman looked up from his sandwich as he heard the pounding of running feet go past the News van. His reporter's instincts kicked in and he knew an opportunity when he saw one. Without the blond grizzly bear hovering around, he just might be able to get the survivor to talk to him. What was that guy's name? Schlepy? Strangsky? Starbuck? Berry shook his head and patted his pockets; it was in his notes somewhere.

"Rob! Come on… grab your camera"

Rob looked up from the box he had just put the camera into "But I just put it away-"

"You want to see your kid tonight? Get your camera! We get this last sound bite and we can both be sleeping in our own beds tonight" Berry quickly dry brushed his teeth, combed his hair and popped yet another breath mint.

Rob opened the box and readied the camera in record time. Anything beat spending the night in the same room with Big Snore Berry. Rob had actually turned on a sound monitor on him and discovered Berry snored at 30 decibels. That was loud by anyone's definition. He shouldered the camera and trotted after Berry.

Berry made his way up the service elevator one of the nurses had told him about. Having such loyal fans was always a bonus. That's why he was always so good to his public. It often yielded him such great benefits as this.

On the way up to the survivor's floor he rechecked the nurses' names. People just loved that he always remembered their names. He wasn't sure how much time he had before the blond detective returned.

Nor was he sure he could get a single word out of Schelpy… wait, that wasn't right. He checked his notes… _Starsky,_ _that's the guy's name, now, how to remember that name?_ _Star Sky? No… how about Star Ski… that's it, my heavenly ski survivor_. _God, I'm good!_

The elevator dinged when it got to the proper floor. By taking the service elevator, he bypassed the public and if his memory served him, the room he wanted was to his right… BINGO! "Come on, we'll just duck in, then back out, no one will know about this until broadcast time"

Berry peeked in the door. There wasn't anyone in the room save for the victim; Starsky, Berry pulled Rob into the room. He ducked into the restroom and checked himself out in the mirror. He looked fabulous. He also noted that he had the roughly the same color hair and eyes as the blond cop. Sure, he was about two inches shorter, but the survivor was out of it. It should be enough to fool him into a quick word or two, hopefully.

He had gone over the tape of the stuff Rob had caught earlier. It had intrigued him. Hutchinstein was able to get Starsky to talk to him. The nurse, what was her name? Melinda? No, Melissa, had told him that no one else could get him to respond.

Berry pulled up the comfy chair and sat beside the man "Starsk? Starsky? Can you hear me? Please buddy… just wake up a little for me… please?" Berry used his softest tones, the ones he used to get frightened people to talk to him and tell him all the juicy details. His golden voice, that's what his mother had called it.

Berry put his hand where he had seen Hutchinstein put his and rubbed gently "Please, buddy? Just a few words… that's all I ask" he rubbed again. He kept his voice soft and quiet. He knew he couldn't mimic the sound of the blond cop's voice; he could only imitate the actions and words, from what little bit he saw from reviewing the recording that Rob had made earlier. Maybe it would be enough.

Rob watched through the lens of the camera. Looking through the lens always put a barrier between himself and whatever actions or event he was filming. It made it seem like he was not really there and it made some things easier to film.

But even with this barrier, he still felt the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up as he watched Berry start to try to manipulate the victim. This was sooo wrong. But, he was a professional and it was his job to film the reporters of his station, including this one. He gritted his teeth and kept filming.

"Come back buddy, please come back" Berry rubbed the arm in the same fashion as he had seen the cop doing earlier.

The curly head moved a little on the pillow, the brow wrinkled a little and the man seemed to be responding. "Hey, there Starsk… I need you to talk to me… just for a second… can ya do that, buddy?" he reached out and caressed the man's forehead.

"Hush?" The sound was whispered, barely audible. The bandaged head moved a little in the direction of the voice. The man's brow furrowed in question and pain.

Berry flashed a grin at Rob and turned back to the prone form "Uh… yeah… uh, Starsky, it's me. Talk to me… buddy… tell me how you felt riding down the mountain in a truck full of bodies? Hmmm? Can you do that for me? Huh?"

Berry fixed his eyes on the injured man's face. If he could just get a few details about that experience, maybe he could turn this into a series. A series on the accident, near autopsy and the recovery of the last known survivor… An exclusive… he would have to use a little of his awesome charm on the two cops and his producer would need a little convincing… Berry smiled to himself; he loved a challenge. He shook himself out of his reverie, he had interview, of sorts, to conduct.

"Starsk… buddy, can you tell me what it was like? Huh?" He gritted his teeth, reached up to run his hand over the dark curly hair. The way the blond touched his injured friend was just so gay… wait just a minute!_ 'Gay, huh…? I wonder if they are? Bet they wouldn't want **that** to get out… HA! That's how I'll get my exclusive story; I could threaten to let their dirty little secret out of the 'closet' _

A big grin slowly grew on Berry's face. Oh yeah, he would be able to wring every stinking little detail of this story out of this pair with that information. They wouldn't want that to get around their precinct, no sirree bob! No charm necessary, just a little blackmail. "Please, tell me… it's important"

"Cold… so… cold" the brunet's teeth began to chatter and his shoulders hunched as though he were trying to warm himself. The bandage wrapped hands moved restlessly on the sheets.

"Hey… buddy… do you remember what you were thinking when you were on the coroner's table?" Berry leaned in. Maybe this wouldn't be such a fluff piece after all and the prospect of hearing all the gruesome details thrilled him. He played with a curl and tugged it gently "It's really important that I know… please, buddy… tell me" He whispered into the prone cop's ear "Can you do it for me, please? Buddy?"

The man began to shake; his whole body stiffened and he began to speak "No… No… alive… I'm alive… Please don't cut me! I'm not dead… I'M NOT DEAD! I'M ALIVE! DON'T CUT ME…please…" the panicked shouts broke off as the survivor began to convulse and froth at the mouth, then several of the machines he was attached to started to alarm.

Berry stood up and backed away from the bed. He bumped into Rob. "Umm, that's enough, we can leave now" He pushed Rob to the door and peered out into the hallway, it was clear, so far. He pushed Rob down the hall and into the service elevator. He hit the button for the ground level. When the door closed, he leaned against the elevator wall and panted for air.

"Whew! That was a close one!" Berry inhaled a shaky breath "Wow, that could have been embarrassing if we would have been caught in there." He clutched at his heart for a moment and then glanced at Rob and his nervous smile melted.

The cameraman was staring at him with wide eyes, a slack jaw and a pale face.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Berry looked away. He knew why. His eyes darted around the small confines of the elevator car, looking everywhere but at Rob.

"What have you done? Do you know what you may have done?" The cameraman whispered in a choked voice, "That poor man, you probably set back his recovery-" an overhead page issued from the speaker in the ceiling of the elevator car interrupted Rob.

"_Code Blue room 514, Code Blue"_

The both stared up at the speaker in the ceiling of the car and when the announcement was finished they looked at each other, both had pale, fear filled faces.

"Shit! That's the survivor's room! We gotta go back, tell them what happened" Rob pushed the button to the floor.

"No, we don't, we didn't do anything" Berry hit the button for the ground floor again.

"Yes, we did. We were in his room filming… we should never have been in there, man Berry, what the hell were you thinking? Were you even thinking? Huh?" Rob stared at the reporter, totally disgusted with himself for having any part of that scene.

Realization dawned on the handsome face and his eyes connected with those of his cameraman "Give me the tape" Berry stuck his hand out. With his other hand, he hit the emergency stop on the elevator car, stopping it.

"What? Why?" Rob was still coming to terms with what had just happened and not quiet understanding what Berry wanted with the tape.

"I'm the reporter here. If there are questions to be asked, I'll do the asking. Now, give me the fucking tape!" He moved closer to the cameraman and shook his outstretched hand for emphasis.

Rob backed up until his back hit the wall of the elevator; he clutched his camera to him. Realization was dawning on him. Berry wanted to destroy the tape. Destroy the evidence of his crime... their crime. He swallowed hard.

"Now, Rob!" Berry knew his career would be over if that tape got out "Do you want me to tell you wife about the time you cheated on her? Huh?"

"How did you…?" Rob stopped. He didn't have to ask anymore. He knew the answer. Berry must have found out about his little indiscretion with Cindy from accounting.

"The tape Rob. Or do I go to Greta and show her the pictures I took of you and Cindy?" Berry smiled smugly and shook his empty upturned palm "The tape? Or I do I tell your wife that you were playing 'hide the hotdog' with Cindy while poor Greta was eight months pregnant"

A cold sweat broke out all over Rob's body as he fumbled with the camera "That was a long time ago, Berry, that little affair was over years ago"

"Do you honestly think Greta will care how long ago it was? Do you? Give me that damn tape!"

Rob handed it over. What else could he do?

"Thank you" Berry smiled and released the emergency stop button. The elevator car finished its decent. It dinged and the doors opened on the ground floor. The pair exited and made for the parking ramp and headed to the News van.

Once they made it to the where the New van was parked, Berry checked the area for people, seeing no one, took the tape out and smashed under the heel of his two hundred dollar shoes. When it was shattered into small pieces, Berry picked up the mess and tossed it into a metal trashcan. He glanced around, looking for people, and again seeing no one, tossed a match into the receptacle. There wasn't much trash in the can and within a few minutes, there was nothing left that would be any use to anyone.

Satisfied that the evidence was gone, Berry smiled at Rob "Now, drive me to that motel. I've had one hell of a day" Berry climbed on the rider's side and sat down.

XXXX

Starsky heard the voice. It didn't seem right somehow. But the words were… right. The touch was… acceptable… but it was off somehow as well. He wavered briefly in the white void. He took a few hesitant steps towards the voice.

_Is something wrong?_

Starsky looked back at The Visitor _umm, nooo… nothing is wrong, someone is calling me_

_Are you sure?_

He stepped towards the voice_ Yes… yes, I am sure_

_Well, as long as you are sure…_ The Visitor smiled to himself. This could not have happened at a better time. Human deceivers, good, that should help his cause. The Visitor drifted away to watch the proceedings with The Other.

Starsky glanced back at the receding form of The Visitor, no longer sure at all, but he couldn't decide if the presents of The Visitor was all that welcome either. He didn't want to be left alone in the white, but then again, he didn't want to stay here. He listened to the speaker. The speaker seemed to be in the same direction of his guide.

He stepped nearer and the voice was clearer, encouraged by what he heard, the sound of a soul calling to him, enticed him nearer the voice. The closer he moved, the clearer the words became. What was he being asked?

He listened to the words of the voice, really listened. The voice knew his name and wanted some information, important information. The words and touch were familiar… not quite right… but familiar. A name hovered on his lips… he struggled to say it and felt the pain that The Visitor had warned him of. The Visitor was right. It was a lot of pain. He pushed through it "Hush?" he waited for the voice to answer.

He wanted to back away, but the voice was insistent, demanding and more unlike his guide. But he was close to the surface now and he let the words pull him closer, despite the increase in pain and the tightening of his chest.

"Talk to me… buddy… tell me how you felt riding down the mountain in a truck full of bodies? Hmmm? Can you do that for me? Huh?"

Starsky remembered being cold, stiff forms pressing against him, unmoving, un-breathing, un-living. He missed some of what was said next and then he could just make out the words…

"Please, tell me… it's important"

"Cold… so… cold" The memory of it hit him hard, the bodies… the intense cold… people thinking he was dead, when he wasn't. Cold, rather like this voice was, but now he couldn't make himself stop listening, even though fear and pain were beginning to wrap around Starsky, holding him in place.

"Hey… buddy… do you remember what you were thinking when you were on the coroner's table?"

Starsky tried to back away, tried to move… but it was like before and he couldn't move. When everyone had thought he was dead. He felt fingers in his hair, a gentle tug on a lock of hair. And the persistent voice spoke again. He heard, though now he did not want to hear.

"It's really important that I know… please, buddy… tell me," The voice whispered into his ear "Can you do it for me, please? Buddy?"

Starsky began to shake; his whole body stiffened and he spoke, he said what he had tried to say before… before… before, when the man was about to cut him open, "No… No… alive… I'm alive… Please don't cut me! I'm not dead… I'M NOT DEAD! I'M ALIVE! DON'T CUT ME…please…" the panicked shouts he had tried to make on the cold metal table screamed out of him, then they broke off as he began to convulse. Pain washed over him like the ocean on the shore, just before a violent storm.

Starsky ran back, tried to get back to the white space, but gray closed in and rapidly turned black and cold… the fearful black cold from… before. It was happening again. He was going to be cut. He was going to die. And, he was going to feel everything that happened before he did.

_HELP ME!… Help Me!… help…me…_ He backed in a circle, not knowing where to go. But needing to get away. He didn't want to feel the knife… didn't want to feel the fear… didn't want to feel the pain. Didn't want to feel.

_I told you, didn't I?_

Starsky stopped his directionless spinning, when he heard The Visitor _Y-yes_

_I did try to warn you_

_Yes, you did_

_Didn't I?_ The Visitor leaned in, success was close, a fingers breath away 

_Yes…but…_Starsky began to think again.

_But what?_

_That wasn't him_

_Wasn't whom?_

_That wasn't my guide_

The Visitor hid his disappointment _Are you sure?_

Now that he had stopped his panicked flight, Starsky could see his mistake. He had trusted when he should not have. _Positive_ He told The Visitor and he was positive, for he was sure that his guide would never lead him into pain. He would not be fooled again. He sat down to wait.

XXXX

The Other closed in as The Visitor moved to their meeting place.

_(You nearly had him, with a little outside help)_

_He will be ours_

_(He is strong, as is his belief in his 'guide')_

_He will be ours_

_(We shall see)_

They went their separate ways

XXXX

Hutch had run back to Starsky's room after putting his clothes in the wash and Doctor Montgomery met him just outside of Starsky's room. Cold fear washed over him as he tried to push past the man and get into his partner's room.

"Detective Hutchinson, may I have a word with you?" the short, round doctor put a hand on the detective's arm and pulled gently to move him away from the patient's door.

Hutch craned his neck around, trying to see inside the door. He could hear activity going on in his partner's room. He didn't look at the doctor as he asked, "What is it? What's going on in there?"

"Your friend stopped breathing-"

"WHAT!" Hutch pushed past the doctor and headed for the door.

The doctor grabbed the detective's arm and swung him around "He's breathing again, his heart did not stop beating. We don't know what caused it, the monitor printouts seem to indicate that he was in a resting state and then started to wake up… then the printouts indicate that as he woke, he became agitated, something set him off. One of the nurses' heard him scream, so I think it might be the pain from the frostbite, which, if you have never have had frostbite before, is rather like having a very bad thermal burn. Hurts like hell. Quite painful."

Hutch finally turned his eyes from the hospital door to meet the doctor's eyes "And what does that all mean for Starsky?"

"I'm not sure just yet. The one thing I do know is that he does better when you're in the room. If you're interested, I could have a cot moved into his room so that you could-"

"-Stay with him? Yes! I would like that. If he needs me to be there for him, you've got it. I won't leave the room, I won't-" Hutch took a step towards the door.

"Well, now Detective Hutchinson, I don't think that'll be necessary. I don't want you to become ill, or stir crazy" the doctor smiled as the detective took another unconscious step towards the door.

"Ken, you can call me Ken… or Hutch" the blond detective didn't even look at the doctor as he took yet another step towards the door, forcing the doctor to follow him. "Can I go see him? Please?"

"Yes, but try to be calm. You don't want him to pick up on your emotions. You two seem close"

"Yeah, very… may I?" Hutch nodded in the direction of the room.

"Sure, go ahead" Doctor Chad Montgomery knew better then to try to stop the detective. "You will still be asked to exit the room when certain procedures are done"

"Yeah, sure, whatever" Hutch made for the door.

Doctor Montgomery shook his head and smiled. He didn't think that Detective Hutchinson had heard a single word he had said. It didn't matter. What mattered was that he find the cause of why his patient suddenly stopped breathing. He knew he had some research to do. It would be another late night for him. But that was all right, just so long as he found the cause. He headed off to his office.

Hutch entered Starsky's room and closed the door behind him. He smiled weakly at the nurse that sat nearby and watched as she finished writing something down on Starsky's chart. When she finished, she got up and left, touching his shoulder briefly as she did so.

Hutch barely felt it. His focus was on his friend. "Hey buddy… what's this I hear about you not breathing? Huh? A little ploy to get those pretty nurses in here for a little action? Hmm? You should have waited for me, the one that just left…wow… I wouldn't mind a little alone time with her" Hutch sat down in the comfy chair and put his hand on Starsky's arm.

Starsky's arm was warmer than it had been before. Hutch felt the tears start to burn in his eyes. He slowly rubbed the still arm. "You scared me, Starsk. You really did. I'll be right here. I'm not gonna leave your side… well, I will have to for a little bit when they have to do what they have to do… but other than that, I'll be right here. Okay? Just keep breathing; can you do that? That's all I ask of you… just keep breathing"

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Hi All,

Thanks so much for the reviews and encouragement to continue with this story! They are caffeine to me. This chapter is a little heavy on medical stuff.

Special Thanks (as always) to the usual suspects: Kreek, Eli, Kelli and wuemsel.

**Chapter 4 **

In the white space, Starsky wandered. He thought he could detect his guide trying to call him, but was a little hesitant to listen just yet. There had been pain and bad memories there. Things he didn't want to deal with just yet. The Visitor had been right. There was a lot of pain there. Wherever '_there_' was, it was all kinda fuzzy right now.

_So, why go back there? _

Starsky startled the sound of The Visitor's voice.

I didn't mean to scare you 

You didn't scare me, I was just thinking… wait a second here… how did you know what I was thinking just now? The dark haired man stopped and looked at the Visitor.

The Visitor shrugged _How could I not know? Thoughts and words are the same here. _

_Oh I'd better watch what I think than._

_Why?_

_Why what? _Starsky was a little confused by The Visitor. He really didn't want any company right now. He didn't really want anything now, though a nap might be nice.

Why think? If you don't think, then you don't have to worry about watching what you think. 

_Okay, that is the most confusing thing that anyone has ever said to me_. Starsky shook his head and continued to move away. _Could you please leave me alone for a little while? I'm a little tired right now, okay?_

_Certainly _The Visitor smiled to himself and headed away from the man to meet with The Other.

_(I see what you are doing now)_

The Visitor's smile broadened.

_(Maybe what you are doing will work after all)_ Came The Other's grudging reply.

The Visitor smiled even wider and watched as The Other move away. There was still so much to do.

XXXX

Hutch watched his friend sleep. At least he hoped it was sleep. Doctor Montgomery had informed him that while Starsky was warming up as he should, the respiratory arrest was not a good sign. Blood had been taken to try to discern where he was chemically; they had to determine if the toxins were being flushed from his system, as they should be.

Hutch would be helping the nurses to turn Starsky every two hours to help prevent pressure sores from developing. In his near coma state, he was unlikely move enough to prevent them. But at least he was able to maintain his own airway. So far.

Whatever had caused the setback had to be avoided again in the near future. Starsky was still prone to cardiac arrhythmias among other things. Hutch rubbed his eyes. It was all so much information; still so many things could go wrong. And something already had. What had caused his friend to suddenly stop breathing? What could he do to keep it from happening again?

Hutch reached out a hand and slowly rubbed the exposed upper arm. "Don't scare me like that again, buddy… my heart couldn't take the strain. I'll be right here when you decide to wake up, okay?" He rubbed the arm again "okay" he leaned back in his comfortable chair to wait.

XXXX

"You're sure these results are correct? You're positive… okay, just checking" Doctor Montgomery put the phone receiver back on its cradle. He gathered his notes and went over them one more time. The blond detective was not going to like what he soon would be hearing.

XXXX

Rob dropped his overnight case on his bed and looked over at the reporter "How can you sleep at night?"

"Easy, I just get into bed; close my eyes and ta-da! I sleep… provided of course that you shut the hell up" Berry gave him a pointed look and then rolled over in the bed, presenting the cameraman with his blanket-covered back. If he could just get a little sleep, he might just come up with a plan to get his story.

He might have to change the angle a bit… maybe go for the blond's part in the story. That could work… so, even if his 'partner' didn't recover, it wouldn't really matter… That's it! He smiled to himself and rolled from his back to his side and drifted off to sleep.

Rob sat on his bed and shook his head in disgust as he listened to Berry start to snore. He knew he wouldn't be getting much, if any sleep tonight. And it had very little to do with Berry's obnoxiously loud snoring.

XXXX

Starsky sat on the ground in the white space. Just what was he doing here anyway? It was rather hard to think about what had happened earlier. Was it all a dream? Was any of this real? He wished he knew the answers. Perhaps his guide could tell him. He got back to his feet. How could he contact his guide?

_Hello? Are you there? _He waited and listened. He felt something. A touch. A voice. Not the voice that led him to pain earlier… at least he didn't think it was. He stepped back, suddenly uncertain of what he should do.

"I'm here, buddy, right here"

Again he felt a touch, only this time, it hurt, not quite like before, but it still hurt. He pulled back some more.

"Hey, where're you going? Try not to move… okay?"

His guide spoke softly, but still Starsky pulled back more. Something was wrong. He hurt. His body hurt, his limbs hurt. Pain surrounded him. He backed away from it.

_I told you that there would be pain_

_Yes…_ This time he was not startled by the voice of the Visitor. In fact, he almost expected it.

_I told you that there would be a lot of pain_

Starsky remembered _Yes_

_Have I lied to you?_

"Starsky? Can you hear me?" the voice of the Guide carried with it a note of worry.

Starsky listened to the voice of his guide but the pain was growing. He turned his gaze to the Visitor _No; you haven't lied to me… yet. But… my guide has never said anything about pain_. Starsky was leaning towards heading to the soft voice of his guide. It would be easier to do if there were no pain involved.

_Perhaps it is an act of omission on his part_. _Perhaps he doesn't want you to know that part of it so you will go with him. _

Starsky moved away from his guide's beckoning and moved away from the Visitor as well. This was beginning to take more out of him then he had expected. What had once seemed like an easy choice, was no longer so easy. _I need some time to think about this._

_Take all the time you need_. The Visitor's were softly spoken as the shapeless form floated away.

"Starsk? Starsky?"

He heard as the guide called to him again, but this time, Starsky moved away from it. All thought of asking his questions was forgotten. He had some more thinking to do.

XXXX

Hutch was nearly asleep when he heard the sound.

"Hello? Are you there?" the dark head rolled from side to side on the bleached white pillowcase. Starsky's words were quiet, but audible.

Hutch stood up and leaned closer to the bed "I'm here buddy, right here" He reached out and rubbed the exposed arm with one hand and brushed back the curls with the other. But this time, Starsky flinched and pulled away.

"Hey, where're you going?" Starsky pulled away from his touch. The brunet moved his head and arms away from his touch and then the movements grew to until he was trashing about. "Try not to move… okay?" Hutch begged. The frenetic movements slowed and then stilled.

"Starsk? Starsky?" Hutch let out a relieved sigh and watched as his friend stilled and once more became quiet. He brushed his hand over the curls once more and then returned to the chair and sat down to wait once more.

He was just getting comfortable again when the doctor walked into the room. He did not like the expression on the doctor's face.

"May I speak to you outside for a moment, please?" Montgomery stood in the doorway, backlit from the hallway lights. His shoulders were slumped.

Hutch nodded, patted Starsky's arm once more and got to his feet and followed the doctor out the door. "I'll be right back buddy"

"What is it?" He whispered as he exited the room. He took in the doctor's posture and saw the stooped shoulders, circles under the eyes. He realized that he probably didn't look much better than that himself.

"It's not good. I just got the blood work back and the numbers aren't going it the right direction." Montgomery gave a tired sigh.

"What do you mean by that?" The detective moved into the doctor's space and lowering his head a little to make eye contact with the shorter man.

"He is not improving as quickly as he should. He does not seem to be metabolizing some of the drugs we put on board. I know that the hypothermia is slowing some of that process down…" The doctor shook his head and released a harsh breath from behind clenched teeth. He dug his hands into his pockets, searching them for his notes.

"Just what does that mean for Starsky?" Hutch stepped closer to the short man and grabbed his arm to regain his attention.

"It means he's getting worse. I think he might be going into rewarming shock, or perhaps afterdrop." Frustration clouded the doctor's face as he patted his pockets once more.

"Rewarming shock? Afterdrop?" Hutch didn't like the sound of those things and waited impatiently for an explanation.

"Afterdrop is when there is a drop in body's core temperature due to the cold blood from the victim's limbs goes returns to the core tissues. The research paper I was reading indicates that how it usually happens is that the victim walks, or moves too much and the colder blood from the limbs moves to the core of the body, thus affecting the heart and other organs. Rewarming shock is related to afterdrop in that the peripheral circulation reduces the body's blood volume, which further increases the workload on the heart. Vasoconstriction, brought on by the cold, is the cause of that" The doctor shook his head.

"What does this all mean? I know you said he is getting worse… but you said that the ACR would help him… so why is he getting worse now and not better?" Hutch began pacing, trying to assimilate all of the information.

"We learned some things about handling and treating the hypothermic in the Korean War and in WWII, but there is still so much we don't know yet. Some of techniques that I am trying are fairly new. The tube in his abdomen, the warm humidified air… Both are fairly new procedures in the care of the hypothermic. However, now his core temperature has dropped two degrees and I can't figure out why" The doctor ran a hand trough his thinning hair, brushing it back.

Hutch stared at him for a heartbeat and than spoke with exasperation "Dropped? How? Why? He's in a warm room, covered with blankets, he is breathing warmed air and having warm fluids pumped trough him. Hell, he even feels warmer!" He stared the man in the eyes, desperate for the answers.

"Hypothermia is a puzzle. We don't have all the pieces just yet. We have some but…" Montgomery sighed heavily, once more running a hand through his disheveled, sparse locks.

"Please, just tell me about why he is not improving…" the worried blond grabbed the distracted doctor's arm to regain his attention.

"In afterdrop, as I have said, the cold blood in his extremities is returning to his body core. That is cooling him down some, complicate that with his leg injury and throw in the rewarming shock… he is cooling a little yet. His trend is leveling off; his rectal temperature is the same as it was an hour ago. But he should be further along then he is. The fact is that he is not metabolizing most of the drugs that he has on board already. Toxins are building up. I don't dare give him any more meds now; otherwise they could build up to a toxic level. I just wish I could figure out what else we could warm up"

Again the doctor patted his pockets, pulled out scraps of wrinkled paper and checked his scribbled notes.

Ideas flowed through the detective's mind. "What about putting hot water bottles on his body? Wouldn't that help?" Hutch grasped at straws.

"That sounds logical; however it would only contribute to his rewarming shock and complicate things. I'm missing something, I just don't know what though" Montgomery flipped through his notes "I guess I'll make some calls, I just can't think of anything else… I'll get back to you if I find out anything" The doctor turned on his heel and headed off to his office to make some calls.

Hutch watched him walk down the hall for a moment and returned to Starsky's side. That explained why Starsky seemed to be getting more confused and more combative. Combative. All that thrashing around that he had been doing earlier was not helping him recover. It was making him worse.

He walked over to his partner's side. He was in a warm room, getting warm air, getting warm fluids pumped through him. What more could they do? His eyes helplessly scanned his friend's now still form and lit upon the IV needle stuck in Starsky's arm. He followed the needle to the tube and then up to the bottle of fluid. He reached up and touched the bottle. It was cold. "Oh my God!"

Hutch dashed out of the room and down the hall "Doctor Montgomery! Doctor!"

The short doctor stopped just short of entering the elevator car. "Yes Detective? What is it?"

"What about the IV fluid? It's cold, do you think that maybe-" Hutch hardly dared to hope that such a small thing might be contributing to Starsky's worsening condition.

"Cold? That's it! Another piece of the puzzle now fits!" The doctor slapped the detective on the back. "Good thinking! Nurse!" He hailed a nurse as she walked past them. "Here's what I want you to do-"

Hutch didn't wait to hear more, he simply trotted back to his friend's room to tell him the good news.

He opened the door and walked to Starsky's side. For a long moment he simply stared at the figure on the bed. White pillowcase, white sheets, white blanket, his partner was once more surrounded by white; just like he had been when he had been buried in the avalanche. Only in this case, the white was warm and not cold. Helpful white and not harmful white.

He pulled in a breath and held it for a moment. Upon releasing it he spoke. "Starsk? Good news… now I know what some of your troubles are, you can recover from this. You are going to get better now. I know you are. You are stronger than this, you can beat this… you will beat this. Nothing so innocuous as a little cold is gonna take you away from me… do you hear me? Nothing"

Hutch blinked the gathering moisture away from his eyes and he paced away from the bed and then back to his friend's side. "If you don't have the strength, then I'll give you some of mine… all of it if necessary. Just, please… come back… please?"

XXXX

Somewhere in the white space, someone listened.

TBC

XXXX

**Author Notes:** 'Afterdrop' normally occurs within thirty minutes of rescue, and happens most frequently when a victim walks or is handled roughly during transport. This forces cold blood from the limbs to the body's core and heart. However, since this story takes place before 1982, when more was learned about the treatment of hypothermia from the Falkland Island Conflict, so it is feasible that errors would be made in Starsky's treatment, which could also account for the late occurrence.

Most 'modern' advances in the knowledge and treatment of hypothermia began in the early 80's (One source I found was a study conducted in 1982 in Washington D.C.) Before that, most apparently 'dead' hypothermic people presumed dead on discovery and left unattended. Only 10 percent of those DOD (Dead on Delivery) were taken to the hospital, where no treatment results are given. On 'lucky' person recovered in the morgue. _–Shudder--_


	5. Chapter 5

Hi All!

Sorry it took so long to update, I had to do some re-writing. I hope you enjoy reading it. Thanks for the reviews, I enjoy reading them and they help me to improve my writing skills, so thank you for that!

Special thanks and big hugs to Kreek, again, you were correct! Hmm, I seem to say that a lot about you _(wink)  
_

**Chapter 5**

The Other listened to the Guide. His enemy. The enemy of all of which he stood for. The Guide was a shinning beacon, a ray of hope. The Other shuddered, for hope was a foul four-letter word to him. The Visitor had his work cut out for him, though Starsky was beginning to fail. That was good. For once he failed; he would become part of the grand scheme. The plan to end all plans, the scheme of all schemes, the most grand of all designs. It was a plan that filled The Other up as he drifted through the white space.

The Other drifted away; his thoughts were focused on the grand scheme and how to accomplish it.

XXXX

The cold was growing. Its icy fingers caressed his skin. Feather light touches of paralyzing cold stroked him. Starsky opened his eyes and looked about him, all was white. Endless white. It was neither hot, nor cold. It just was. Why had he just felt so cold? Why had he felt anything at all? Why should he ask himself questions that he had no answers to?

Slowly, the answers came, as if whispered in his ear.

_It is easier not to ask. It takes effort_.

_It is easier not to feel. Feeling hurt. _

_It is easier not to think. It takes concentration._

It was easier just to drift in the white space. Untroubled. Unfeeling. Unhurt. Just drift in the white space.

The Visitor was pleased as he shifted and moved away into the expanding white space.

XXXX

Hutch sat back down in his comfortable chair. He sank down into the cushioned seat and leaned back onto the padded backrest. This had to be the most comfy chair he had ever sat in. Exhaustion was making his mind wander a bit. Why should he concern himself with how comfortable he was? It didn't matter what his comfort level was. He should be concentrating on helping his friend recover, but how? What more could he do?

He looked at his motionless friend. There was no bad guy he could take on and no human opposition he could confront, now that Berry Brockman was out of the picture. But he knew he had a battle on his hands. He was going to have to fight to save Starsky. He knew he had to fight… he just wasn't sure what he was fighting but he had a feeling it wasn't anything substantial, nor was he certain just how he was going to go about saving his friend. He only knew that it was going to be a long night. He should rest while he had a chance for he had a feeling that he would need every bit of all the strength he could muster. He just wished that he could a name to whatever it was that he had to fight against.

A yawn caught him unaware and forced his jaw wide open, it made a little popping sound as he put his hand over his mouth, covering it. What had his grandmother told him about that? Oh yeah, that the original purpose for putting ones hand over your mouth when yawning was to keep evil spirits from entering your body. She had also told him that yawning meant that Death was calling you and to ward it off, you had to snap your second finger and thumb to chase Death away. Grandmother Hutchinson had a superstition and a superstitious cure for nearly everything.

Hutch shook his head to clear the cobwebs and to force away the silly thoughts that were running through his head. He then clenched his jaw trying to keep another yawn from escaping. Maybe he could put his head down for just a few minutes. Starsky was motionless, save for his regular breathing. He rubbed his hand over the exposed arm and gripped it lightly for a moment. "I'm right here buddy… anytime you feel like waking up…" Silence met his words. Hutch leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. In moments he was asleep.

XXXX

Before going to bed that night, Berry Brockman had the idea of perhaps changing the angle of the story. With the survivor's recovery in doubt or at least bound to take more time then he wanted to waste on this story, he had gotten the idea to go after the blond detective's side of the story. It was almost as if the idea had been whispered in his ear.

When he awoke in the wee hours of the morning, he knew that he had to get into Hutchinstein good graces. He would go to the hospital alone and take his tape recorder. He could then begin to work on his new angle for the story. He decided that he would leave cameraman Rob Olson at the motel. If all went well with this meeting, he could send the cameraman back to get some filler shots. Exteriors of the hospital, busy staff members working franticly to save the poor last survivor and any other sappy drivel he could find.

Berry wasn't sure what it was. Maybe intuition, maybe his reporter's instincts, whatever it was, he had the feeling that the survivor would not make it. So he would work the 'friend of the victim' angle. That way he would have a dramatic, but sad Human Interest story. With the blond cop's good looks and concern for his friend that just oozed out his very pours on onto the TV screen… The viewers would love it, especially women.

God, he could just imagine the mail and the marriage proposals that the cop would get. Too bad that they didn't know what he did. The blond wasn't attracted to women. Of course, it just meant that there would be more women for him. Berry grinned at that thought. Stupid fag cop, he didn't know what he was missing.

Berry wondered if he could get the blond to cry. It always made for great viewing when some man got all weepy and started to blubber over something "Boo hoo, my kid fell down a well. Oh, my house burned down… My wife may die…" Whaaa whaaa whaaa, sob, sniffle, whine, 'pity me, pity me'. It was all so highly entertaining to him.

Now, all he had to do to get back on track with this story was to make nice with the cop. He looked over at his restlessly sleeping cameraman. The jerk. It was a good thing that he had gotten those pictures of Rob, literally, screwing around a few years ago. How the cameraman could let a little thing like an attack of conscience bother him so much that he couldn't get a decent night's sleep was beyond Berry. It was such a waste of time and effort, not to mention a good night's sleep. He would not need his bleeding heart, wife-cheating cameraman along. He could handle this part himself.

Berry was at a loath to take the cameraman with him to the hospital, nor would he tell the man about how he would be working the story. It had all been in a dream that he had tonight, it had been so compelling that he had awoken very early with this great idea on how to work his new angle for the Snow Village Ski Chalet disaster story. He had the idea to go at it from the blond cop's viewpoint. It was almost as if someone had whispered the idea into his ear, urging him to go back to the hospital and talk to the blond cop and the sooner, the better.

He grabbed his coat and the News van's keys and headed out the door as quietly as he could. He had a story to report.

XXXX

Hutch was awakened by sound.

"Pssst!"

The blond roused himself and blinked owlishly "Who is it?" he croaked out, his voice gummy with sleep. He turned his head about to see who it was. He bit off a groan of annoyance when he recognized the figure in the doorway.

"Officer Hutchinstein?"

It was that damn reporter "Hutch-chin-son" the blond enunciated each syllable as he stood up. He had to get that stupid son of a bitch away from his partner. Now.

"Oh, sorry-"

"If you disturb my partner, you will be more then sorry" Hutch cut the man off with a quiet growl as he neared the doorway. "I don't want you anywhere near this room again, do you hear me?" He walked forwards, not stopping, which forced the reporter to walk backwards out of the room to avoid getting his toes stepped on.

The reporter had a sheepish grin on his face and blushed "That's why I came down here… to apologize for my behavior earlier" The reporter glanced up and down the hall "Can we talk somewhere private for a moment? That's all I ask" the man nervously twisted a ring on his right hand. He made brief eye contact with the detective before his eyes darted away again.

Hutch pulled the door to Starsky's room shut and blocked the entrance with his body. He then crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin, looking down his nose at the reporter. He didn't say a thing. He simply let his hostile stare and silence do all the talking.

The reporter cleared his throat and reached up to tug at his suddenly too tight shirt collar. "Um, we got off on the wrong foot here… I just want to say I'm sorry… really sorry for what happened before, I was a jerk, okay?" The man looked about again "Please, can we talk elsewhere for just a few moment? I don't want to disturb the other patients, or…or your partner. Please? Just a few minutes?" He tugged at his collar again.

Hutch stared at the man and let him squirm for a few more long moments. "Alright, you have five minutes, then I don't want to even see you near this hospital again, is that clear?"

"Crystal" The reporter did an about face and headed for the stairwell three rooms down from Starsky's room.

Hutch looked back up the hall to make sure that someone wasn't trying to sneak into Starsky's room while he was distracted by the reporter. He saw no one. The reporter entered the stairwell just before him. There was a window in the door; he could keep watch for any intruders while his listened to what the reporter had to say. Not that it was going to change his opinion of the man.

Once in the stairwell, he gave it a visual once-over out of habit, the area was clear of anyone besides them. He stood so he could clearly see the door to his friend's room "What is so important that you had to come down here in the middle of the night to do it?"

The reporter tugged at his tight shirt collar and looked at the floor "As I said, I wanted to apologize for what happened earlier. It was unconscionable-"

"You're damn right! You had no business being in there!" Hutch cut the man off "I really don't want to hear any more of this, I'm going back to my partner" he reached for the doorknob; the reporter had all the time he was ever going to give the man. Enough was enough.

The reporter grabbed his wrist "Look, damn it! This has been bothering me, I couldn't sleep, that's why I came down here and it hasn't been five minutes, you said you would give me five minutes of your time and-" his opportunity was slipping away from him like grains of sand in an hourglass.

Hutch glared at the reporter "Let go of my arm. If you choose not to let go of my arm, I will choose to cuff you and arrest you," Hutch hissed at the man. He had had all he could stomach of the reporter.

"You said I could have five minutes-" The man repeated.

Hutch snapped his hand around and easily broke the weak grip of the reporter "Funny, seems like sooo much longer then five minutes to me" he shook his head and grabbed the door handle. It was time to get back to his partner.

Frantic, the reporter moved to stop the blond… his story was slipping away from him, his golden opportunity "I-I know about you two" He pressed his hand on the door to keep the cop from opening it just yet. He knew he didn't have a prayer of stopping the man physically and it would be just plain stupid to even try.

Those words got Hutch's attention "What do you think you know about us?"

"About you two being partners" the reporter's eyes darted up and down the staircase, looking for anyone who might around. He would keep the cop's secret until it was convenient to make it public.

"So? We're partners… what's there to know?" Just as he said it, Hutch realized what the reporter was trying to say. And what the reporter was probably going to try to do with that very incorrect information. "First you grab me and now you are trying to BLACKMAIL me? That's it Berry. You just wrote yourself a ticket to jail, turn around and put your hands on the wall" Hutch directed as he moved closer to the reporter. He patted his pockets, searching for his handcuffs.

Berry moved forward to plead his case "No, wait… wait, you've got it all wrong here… I just came down here to apologize… I don't want any trouble, really, I just" he didn't know what made him do it, but as he moved forward, he grabbed the cop's arm again.

Hutch readily broke the handhold of the reporter and moved to slam the reporter against the wall. He did not notice how close to the steps he had gotten until his foot slipped off the landing to the step below. That small stumble threw him off balance for a split second.

Berry spotted the slip and pushed the cop as hard as he could. He didn't think about it. He simply reacted. He then watched as the cop tumbled down the concrete steps, his body making sick, hollow thumps as it hit and bumped it's way down the fifteen steps to the next landing before coming to a complete halt.

As cold sweat broke out all over his body, Berry swallowed hard, the gorge wanting rise in his throat as he stared at the limp and still cop's body.

"Oh shit"

XXXX

In the white space, the Other smiled.

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

Hi All,

Thank you Readers and Reviews. Sorry for the long time in posting… I will try to have the next chapter out sooner. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

As always, thanks to the Usual Suspects _(hugs!)_

**Chapter 6 **

"What have I done?" Berry Brockman looked down at the still form on the landing below him. "That was just brilliant. How the hell am I supposed to get a story out of him now?" He shook his head as he stared at the still form below him, pondering what he was going to do now. _'Great, now I'll probably have to go to __Brazil__ to find a job as a reporter… crap, crap, crap! How the hell am I going to get out of this one? The cop didn't go for the blackmail; I could be arrested for assault on an officer… Unless no one saw me…'_

Berry glanced down the stairwell and then up the stairwell. He listened carefully to see if he could hear anyone walking on the steps. "Whew, lucky break for me" He turned and was about to pull open the door and make good his escape when he spotted a nurse walking towards the door, her head was down, looking at the chart she was carrying.

_'Shit!'_ He now had only one option, he trotted down the steps to the blond cop's side and knelt down and put one hand on the man's shoulder then waited until he heard the stairwell door start to swing open "Hey! Are you okay?" he called as he gently shook the cop.

"What's going on here?" The worried voice of the female nurse carried down the steps.

Berry plastered a concerned look on his face before lifting his head at the sound of the nurse's voice "I don't know. I think he needs a doctor," he did not elaborate. The less he said about what happened, the less he would have to remember later. A good liar had to have a very good memory for details or better yet, not give any details at all, if possible.

"Hey! You're Berry Brockman!" the nurse gasped as she recognized him.

Berry maintained his concerned expression "Yeah, umm, I think this man needs some help." he patted the blond's arm and bent closer to peer into the cop's face _'Good, he's out cold! You just might be able to pull this off, Berry old man…You could come out of this looking like a hero, especially if the cop dies!'_

He listened to the nurse's shoes tic-tac down the steps and once she got to the landing, he glanced up at her "Do you want me to go get some help?"

The nurse, Sally, according to her nametag, knelt next to him and reached out to touch the cop's neck "Oh dear, yes! Go to the nurses' station up one level and tell them I need help, stat!"

Berry popped to his feet and ran up the steps and through the door. He got to the nurses' station and put in the request for help. Then he headed back to the stairwell to play up his part to the hilt. _'I will have to have an Oscar worthy performance to get out of this one' _he thought to himself as he made his way to the top of the steps. Then a few of the nurses from the station trotted past him and to the scene of the cop's fall.

Now if the cop would do him a favor and not remember what had happened… he might just be able to turn the blond cop's 'accident' into an opportunity. Berry was well aware that someone with a true head injury often did not remember the events just preceding the accident.

He had interviewed, or tried to interview more then one person after an accident only to have them look at_ him_ and say, "What happened?" Just what did they think he was doing, as he stood there with a microphone in his hand and shoving it in their bewildered face? Berry shook his head, stupid people. Anyway, he wouldn't think about how much the cop might remember just now, he had a roll to play.

He watched the nurses give the cop a once over and one of them scuttled off to get a couple of orderlies and a gurney to get the man off the landing. "How is he?" He asked in a concerned voice as he slipped into his 'helpful citizen' mode as he descended a few of the steps to get closer so he could clearly hear anything they said.

He barely managed to keep the smile off his face as he listened to Sally whisper to the other nurses "That's Berry Brockman!" The nurses then shot curious and eager looks up the steps at him. Two of the women actually blushed.

"Is he going to be okay?" he pointed at the fallen man, maintaining his 'concerned citizen' façade.

"We hope so… hard to tell, looks like he hit these steps pretty hard. It helps that you found him though. We'll have to tell him that you helped him" Nurse Sally smiled up at him.

"No!" Berry cleared his throat "I mean, no… please don't" He waved his hands at them in a warding fashion. "It was nothing," he shrugged "really." And walked back up the steps towards the door.

"Oh, wow, modest _and_ cute." He heard one of the nurse's comment quietly to the others.

Murmured agreements followed him out the door. This might be a good time to slip into Starsky's room and maybe ask some more questions, if the man had regained consciousness. While he didn't want a repeat of the earlier performance; he was eager for more details. He would be more cautious this time and try not to cause the man to have another attack.

He would also have to take care that the blond cop didn't find out he was back in his friend's room. It could get ugly if he did. Since Berry didn't know what, if anything, the blond might remember from the events preceding his fall, it would be best to stay close so that he could give his side of the story, once he figured out how badly hurt, or not, the blond cop was.

He returned his thoughts to the survivor, if Starsky was conscious, he would interview him, but, if the man were still unconscious, Berry figured he would just hang out in the room to try to gather information from the nurses about the man's condition. If anyone asked what he was doing in the room, he would tell them about the accident that the poor blond cop had and say that he was worried about the survivor not having anyone there to sit with him.

This would accomplish a few things, one being getting more information for the story, two meant being kept in the loop on the blond's condition, and lastly he would just look like a saint to his fans. He was pretty sure his popularity rating would be going through the roof very shortly. He approached the brunet cop's door when someone whispered his name. He stopped and turned around; it was Nurse Sally "Yes?"

"Umm, hi… I was wondering if I could-" she blushed and stammered and worked hard to regain her composure.

_Here it comes_, Berry thought

"-get your autograph?" she pulled out a small spiral notebook and a pen, sheepishly holding them out to him.

_And there it is_ "Why certainly" He forced a smile on to his face. "How is that man doing?"

"They are sending him to ER and then probably X-ray, he has a nasty cut on his head, there could be other injuries, though nothing that I could tell was obviously broken… he was still out cold. That's not a good sign. Good thing you found him so quickly" She smiled up at him.

"Oh, Sally, don't sell yourself short, you would have found him if I hadn't been there. Besides, you're a nurse, and that makes you my heroine" Berry put his hand over his heart. "Why, you are helping people everyday. With your training and expertise, I'm sure he will recover. No Sally, I couldn't have helped him like you did" He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. He leaned down and kissed her cheek "Thank you for that."

Sally blushed and giggled. "Oh, Berry, if I weren't already married…"

"I'd be knocking on your door" He winked at her. "I have a small favor to ask."

She batted her eyes at him "Anything,"

"Do you think it would be alright if I just went in here and kept the survivor company while his friend gets checked out?" He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Oh, I bet Detective Hutchinson would like that. The poor man, he has hardly left his friend's side at all, according to the other shift. You just wait until I tell him what you are doing for him" Sally patted the reporter's arm "You're such a good man."

He covered her hand with his and held gently it down on his arm for a moment "Oh no Sally, please don't tell him… This could be our little secret. A special gift of kindness from one human to another, no strings attached. Just a simple act of kindness. Wouldn't that be nice?" Berry sighed and smiled off into space as though he were absorbing the pure kindness of his own words; he lightly caressed her hand then released it.

"It's too bad I'm married" Sally sighed "I could really fall hard for a man like you. All right then, it'll be our little secret" She sighed again, wistfully this time and she headed back to the nurses' station.

"Yeah, our little secret" Berry rolled his eyes and opened the door to the survivor's door and looked in. Good, he was all alone. He smiled and entered the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

XXXX

_What are you doing?_ The Visitor stared at The Other in disbelief.

_(The same thing that you are doing) _

_We cannot have both of them here. _

_(Why not?) _

_The Guide is close to the answer. He may yet find the solution and pull his friend from our grasp. _

_(That is precisely the reason to bring him here. He will have no one to guide him. With no one to guild Starsky, he will easily fall to us. Then we can collect the guide. The one called __Berry__ is easy to manipulate, his mind is filled with thoughts only of himself, he does not care how he achieves his goals, only that he does. I can get him to help you some more. ) _

_How so? _

_(By having him pretend to be the guide. It almost worked before, with the guide here, there is no one to interrupt this time. It will work.) _

_You had better be right. There is much at stake here; I grow concerned that you are becoming greedy; do not forget what you are and your place here. _

_(I know what I am! Do not profess to know more than I know about myself!) _

The Visitor watched as The Other drifted away into the white space. He had never known The Other to react in such a fashion and was uncertain how to respond to the change. He drifted off to check on the brunet. He had his own goals to attain.

XXXX

Hutch looked about. Just where in the hell was he? The entire area was white. Everything was white. It was like a fog bank had rolled in and covered everything.

"Where am I?" He spoke out loud, or thought he had. But the sound seemed to be… muted some how; it was if the 'fog' had absorbed it. He looked about for a light source; he looked for something, anything to give him direction.

The light appeared to come from everywhere and nowhere. This place made no sense at all. "How did I get here?" He began to walk. There had to be someone here that could help him.

XXXX

"He has pressure building in his cranium. The brain is beginning to swell" Doctor Montgomery scanned the silent form on the table. '_Damn!'_ It was a shame that Detective Hutchinson had been injured in a fluke accident, he had apparently fallen down the steps. The poor man just couldn't seem to get a break. If it weren't for bad luck, the detective would have no luck at all. Montgomery placed a hand on the unconscious man's arm and gave it a little squeeze.

"Are we going to need to call Doctor Hermonson?" the head nurse prompted.

"Yes, good thinking." Montgomery stifled a yawn. He had been at the hospital twenty hours today and it didn't look like he was going to leave anytime soon. Not that he wanted to. But he needed sleep. It was far too easy to make mistakes when one is tired.

"Yes, call him and tell him to get in here, he may have some surgery to do."

"Yes doctor" the head nurse, Julie, made her way to the door to make the call. Just outside the room she noticed two second shift nurses talking. "Ladies, are you pulling doubles tonight?"

"Yes ma'am" One of the nurses sighed.

"Is there a problem?"

"No… well, not yet"

"Meaning?"

"I just heard on the radio that there is a snowstorm on the way. The weatherman says we could get a foot or more of snow tonight. It'll make for a tough time driving home in the morning."

"Oh" Nurse Julie grunted in response and hustled down the hall to her office. She had to get Doctor Hermonson on his way soon or he might not be able to make it at all, he had a long drive to get here. She sat at her desk and thumbed through her Rolodex, looking for the doctor's number. When she found it, she dialed the number and as she waited for someone to pick up, she looked out her window and watched as the snow fell outside her window.

XXXX

Berry Brockman looked out the window. Snow was falling. Great… the leading story in the a.m. would be about the weather. He looked over his shoulder at the survivor. If that man didn't wake up soon, or just get it over with and die, he was in for a long, boring night. _'Why me?'_ he rolled his eyes.

Nurse Sally had come in a few minutes ago and told him that Hutchinstein was still unconscious and if things didn't improve, he would likely need surgery to relieve the swelling in his head. Berry snickered. He had already guessed that the cop had a swelled head. Now it was official. He had medical proof. He chuckled again at his own joke. _'God, I really should do stand-up! The stories I could tell…'_

He checked the clock on the wall. _'Good God! Why can't that thing move faster? I am so bored!'_

_(You would not be so bored if you had someone to talk to)_

Berry stood stock-still. Someone was in the room with him. "Hello?" He slowly turned around and peered into the darkened corners of the room. His heart beat faster "who is in here?"

_(No one is here… you are just imagining it. It is because you are so bored. You just need someone to talk to)_

"Great Berry, you are going off the deep end here… and here's your proof, you are talking to yourself" he clenched his teeth. He did not need anyone to hear him doing that. He could loose some viewers.

_(Just tell them that you were talking to Starsky… Remember how he responded to you the last time? Would that not make for some interesting viewing? You know you want to do that again… You enjoyed it. Just talk to him like before… what could it hurt? Think of your public… a whole new angle for a story… it will be great…) _

It must be his intuition speaking to him. It _would_ be a great new angle and it _had _been fun. What more would the victim say? What he had heard so far did make him want to hear more…

_(Just do it) _

"I will" His mind made up, Berry made his way to the survivor's side and sat down. The worst that could happen was that the detective would say nothing. _'That breathing attack had just been a coincidence, right?'_

_(Yes…so what could it hurt to talk to him?)_

"Nothing, nothing at all" His mind made up, Berry looked at the man's hand _'It's show time, Berry… just grit your teeth and do it'_ he sighed _'the things I do for my public'_ he then grabbed the still man's hand.

The Other smiled.

**TBC **

Author Notes:  
The inability to recall the events leading up to an injury is called Retrograde Amnesia.  
Oh, and if you're curious: The inability to recall the events _after_ an injury is called Anterograde (posttraumatic) Amnesia.


	7. Chapter 7

Hi All,

Well, I finally came back to this story. I am so sorry for the incredibly long wait. For those not already familiar with this story, this one is _way_ off the beaten path. For those of you who have been so patiently waiting, thank you!

As always, thanks to The Usual Suspects.

**Chapter 7**

Starsky could hear a voice softly calling to him. He was still a little leery from the last time he had heard the voice. There had been pain. He didn't like pain; it made it hard to think. He felt a hand take his. It didn't feel 'right', somehow. Not like before. He pulled back and moved away, further into the white.

He was missing something. He couldn't really remember what. It was on the tip on his tongue. It seemed that the harder he tried to remember what he was missing, the more he forgot. He didn't want to forget… what he was forgetting. Confusion was closing in. The white space he traveled in somehow seemed to get whiter… a fog of white swirled around him.

Starsky bolted. He didn't know where he was going and couldn't remember why he felt the need to go. Only that he must go.

XXXX

The Visitor smiled. Starsky's confusion was growing. Things were progressing very nicely now.

XXXX

Berry Brockman frowned at the unconscious cop. The man wasn't moving, aside from breathing. He was not getting any reaction despite his crooning and soft talk. Not like before. He dropped the hand he was holding, suddenly beginning to think that this wasn't such a great idea after all.

He stood up and moved away from the bed. He walked to the window and watched the snowfall silently on the sill. The flakes were small and falling fast. The heavy snow his coworker had predicted had arrived. He turned back from the window and stared at the still form on the bed. It was creepy how still the man was. As if the cop's spirit was preparing to leave his body.

Brockman shook his head at that inane thought and wiped a hand down his face. "Coffee, that's what I need. Coffee" he tiptoed across the room and exited quietly. He leaned against the closed door and gave a sigh of relief, though he wasn't at all sure why he should feel that way. "Coffee" he reiterated as he nodded to himself and headed for the vending machines down the hall.

XXXX

In the white space, The Other growled in frustration. He had come so close to achieving his goal. He backed away. Perhaps he had been pushing Brockman too hard, he was eager to prove his point and achieve his goal. He wanted to show The Visitor up. Now he had spooked the newsman by pushing too hard. It had to seem like it was Brockman's idea or his plan would fail, even with one as self-centered as Brockman.

XXXX

_Davenport, Iowa_

The young mother brushed back a stray curl of copper colored hair off of her daughter's forehead. Beads of sweat formed on the child's brow. The mother patted it dry. The seven year old twitched at the light touch and then she stilled.

"Maria?" The young mother called softly.

The little girl twitched again, the copper curls bobbed and bunched against the pillowcase, only to go motionless once more.

The mother sat back in her chair to continue her vigil.

XXXX

Starsky entered a place that was different than the other places… or non-places that he had been. Elsewhere had been white and foggy. Here… wherever 'here' was, was… different. He kept moving and slowly began to notice lumps in the ground. Some lumps were no bigger then large anthills, some were nearly shoulder high.

The brunet snickered to himself. A field of lumps. He walked down the rows, they seemed endless. As he walked he began to notice that some lumps were moving, swaying gently in a nonexistent breeze.

"_Help me._"

Starsky stopped and looked about. The words had been faint. He shook his head and stepped forward, continuing his route between a row of lumps.

"_Please help._"

The whispery words floated by him on the nonexistent breeze. The voice sounded young. He headed in the direction of the voice.

"Where are you?" The sound of his own voice startled him. It was dampened, muted.

"_Here… here…"_

It took him a while to locate the source, but he found it. It was one of the smaller lumps. The lump barely came to his knees. He knelt down and stared at it. Feelings of utter foolishness came over him; he stood back up and started to move away, giving the mound a wary look as he did so.

"_Don't go! Help!_"

Starsky looked at the lump. The voice was coming from it. He backed away. This strange white field of lumps had just gotten a whole lot stranger.

"_Please… don't leave me."_

He swallowed hard, set his jaw and walked back to the mound. The voice sounded like a child's voice. But then he wasn't really sure. This whole white place was one big mystery to him. He made a small circle around the little mound, scratching his head. "How can I help you?"

"_Help… help…I'm scared…" _came the plaintive cry.

Not knowing what else to do, Starsky leaned down and put his arms around the mound and pulled up. The mound came up easily in his arms and once out of the ground began to change shape. The formless mound took the shape of a little girl.

The girl smiled at him, threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. "Thank you!"

She then 'poofed' and disappeared from the circle of his arms. Starsky spun around quickly, looking for the girl. She was nowhere to be seen. "What the hell just happened?"

"_What do you think you're doing?"_ The voice of the visitor hissed in his ear.

"I don't know… I'm not sure what the hell just happened." Starsky scanned the white space, still looking for the mound-turned child.

"_You shouldn't be here yet, you're not ready, yet."_

"Ready? Ready for what?" Utter confusion colored Starsky's voice.

"_Ready to be here… to be a part." _

"A part? A part of what?"

"_You need to leave now. Come with me."_

"No." For the first time since he had awoken in this strange white space, Starsky now felt confident of something. Confusion had ruled him for a while now. He had been pulled in different directions, first by his Guide and then by the Visitor. The incident with the girl had changed that. He was certain that he was being deceived.

But who was the deceiver? The Guide, whose voice was friendly, kind and beckoning, but led him to pain? Or the Visitor, who reasoned with him about avoiding the pain and staying here, in this place. Urging him not to think, not to feel…

The girl had been happy to be free. But what had happened to her? Had she died? Or was it something else that had happened to her? He looked about at the strange field of mounds. Was each of them a person too? Why were they here? What was the purpose to this place? A place that the Visitor claimed he wasn't ready for.

"_Help me…" _

A new voice floated to him. He looked about the field, searching for the source of that voice.

"_Don't. You mustn't do that again." _The voice of the Visitor was calm.

Starsky looked at the Visitor. There was no real form to it. It was a cloud, a mist. Why had he not noticed that before? "What are you? Who are you?"

"_Come with me please." _

"No" Starsky turned and headed in the direction of the new voice.

XXXX

Doctor Montgomery drank his tea slowly as he reread the report. After reading, he looked out the window as he took a long sip of his Earl Gray. _'Nothing like hot tea on a cold winter's night.' _He thought as he watched the silent snow fall. He hoped his colleague would be able to make it here in time. If he didn't, Montgomery knew that he faced the possibility of doing a delicate surgery on very little sleep. Being shaky due to being over caffeinated was not a good idea either, especially if he ended up doing surgery on the blond cop. Hutchinson…

This was one pair of cops who couldn't seem to catch an even break. First detective David Starsky is in an avalanche, and then everyone thinks that the man is dead. Detective Hutchinson finds his partner, who is seconds away from having a coroner cut him open. Even though proper medical assistance was given, detective David Starsky had just slipped into a coma, possibly due to re-warming shock.

Detective Hutchinson had been exhausted, but insisted on standing vigil at his partner's side. Next thing that happens is that the poor man takes a tumble on the stairs, probably due to his exhaustion. The blond had suffered cerebral trauma as a result. Tests that had been done so far indicated that he was beginning to show signs of a subdural hematoma, a slow bleed under the dura, but outside of the brain.

This was a grave cause for concern. The small bleed, if it continued, would need to be repaired. Doctor Hermonson, when he arrived, might have to go in and repair the damage. Cerebral edema was also a distinct possibility. However, since his treatment had been initiated immediately, the high-flow oxygen that the detective was on seemed to be countering it.

If it weren't for bad luck, these two wouldn't have any luck at all. Montgomery sipped again from his cup of tea, only to find that the cup was now empty. He just hoped the weather wouldn't keep Doctor Hermonson from arriving, just in case. Montgomery looked longingly at the box of tea bags. The caffeine they contained would be nice and much needed boost. But if Hermonson could not make it in time, he would have to do the surgery himself, and it would be best if his hands didn't shake from the caffeine.

A tone was then piped over the PA system. He cocked his head and listened to the announcement that followed.

"_Doctor Montgomery, report to room 327 – STAT"_

It was the blond cop's room.

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

Hi all,

As always, I give you heartfelt thanks for reading and reviewing. I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

Thanks as always to the Usual Suspects, without their help, this chapter might not have been written.

**Chapter 8**

Doctor Montgomery made his way into room 327; he was puffing a little from the exertion of jogging through the halls to get to this room. The blond detective was seizing.

The long body tightened under the white sheets. The man's chin tilted up as his back of his head arched back towards his spine, while the arms and legs vibrated with the strain of the seizure.

"Oh hell" Montgomery started to mentally prep himself; it looked like he might have to start on the surgery without the aid of Doctor Hermonson. The seizing stopped and the detective once more lay still on the gurney. "Send him to x-ray, get a couple of fresh head shots. I need to know exactly where I need to go before I get started. Just get me two or three good shots. Put a rush on it, people. Prep him for surgery as well, just incase."

The nurses and x-ray tech scurried to obey.

Montgomery stared after them and they wheeled the man off to x-ray. "He was stable… what happened?" He muttered to himself as he looked back at the charts one of the nurses had shoved into his hands, pondering this development. It wasn't unexpected, but it was happening a great deal sooner then he thought that it should. He went back to perusing the charts. He must have missed something, and that bothered him.

XXXX

Berry Brockman stared at the black public address speaker bolted to the wall. Room 327… wasn't that where detective Hutchinstein was? The palms of his hands began to sweat and his vending machine coffee almost slipped out of his hands. He looked up and down the darkened hall. '_What the hell am I doing here?_' He wondered as he ran a nervous hand through his perfectly combed hair, mussing it slightly.

'_What am I doing?'_ He asked himself again.

_(Getting your story…that's what you doing. You don't want the morning news to start with the weather for a lead story, do you? How boring is that? Wouldn't you rather the day started with you and your story? Hmmm?) _

"My story..." Berry made a face as he looked at the tepid dregs of the coffee in the paper cup.

_(Your scoop… you have the only survivor left in that room…snatched from the coroner's table… a great story is laying there, just behind that door over there.)_

He looked again at the closed door to detective Starsky's room.

_(How are you going to get your story standing out here? In there is where the story is… just go in there and get it.)_

He bit his lower lip. He had done a lot worse things to get a story. Talking to an unconscious man was nothing compared to some of the things he'd done to make it to where he was today. Holding the man's hand was nothing new either. Touch often worked to get people to open up to him, to tell them all the gory details.

_(So what's holding you back now, Berry?)_

"Nothing." He squared his shoulders and tossed the paper cup into the trash as he made his way back to the survivor's room.

XXXX

Now that The Other had Berry back on track, he headed off to the place where the guide was. It was time to work on him some more. The Other smiled to itself. This was going to be the fun part.

_We have a problem_ The Visitor interrupted The Other and his plotting.

XXXX

Starsky followed the new voice to yet another swaying lump. He stared at it for a long time. Would it turn into a child as well? Would it disappear also, once he pulled it out?

_'Help me'_

The voice sounded male.

Starsky could not ignore the plea. He knelt down and took a hold of the lump and pulled up. It was not as easy to pull up as the other had been. Starsky strained for a time before the lump began to budge. He dug his heels in and strained some more. Finally, inch-by-inch the lump pulled up and out of the ground. This time the lump formed into a vaguely human male shape, the man smiled at him and then slowly dissipated.

'_Thank you.'_ The words were breathy, whisper quiet and faded away just as the man had.

Starsky looked around for the man he had freed and was not surprised to find him gone. Just like the little girl, though he didn't go 'poof' like she had. Another lump called out and he headed in that direction.

XXXX

_(How did it happen?)_ The Other asked The Visitor after he finished explaining the reason for his intrusion into The Other's territory.

_How it happened is not important. He is in the field_. The Visitor swirled in agitation as he spoke. His vaporous form took on a tornado-like shape. 

_(So? That is where we want him.')_

_Not like this we do not. He is not ready yet and he is interfering with our previous work. He could do a great deal of damage there. He is upsetting the field._

(_Then he must be stopped.)_

_I concur. But how? He will not listen to me. The Visitor swirled violently for a moment._

_(I have an idea. Come with me.)_

The beings of mist floated off together.

XXXX

Starsky moved about the lumpy field. It slowly dawned on him that it was a field of people. He pulled up those lumps that called out. And he wondered about the ones that did not. Should he do something about those, or should he leave them?

He knelt down and tugged experimentally on one of the silent lumps. It did not budge. He took a firm hold and pulled harder. Nothing happened. "C'mon!" Starsky grunted as he yanked at the silent lump. It yanked down unexpectedly, slamming him into the ground. "What's wrong with you?" He snapped at the motionless lump.

The lump remained silent and unmoving.

Starsky shook his head and moved on, still trying to make sense of the senseless. Walking between the rows gave him a purpose, something to focus on since his guide had left him alone. The guide led him to pain. But the words the guide had spoken were kind, welcome.

He wanted to follow. It hurt, but the pleasure of hearing that voice had been worth it, just as it had been worth it before… before when there was pain. He had wanted to give in, to give up and not face that pain anymore. But the hands and warm voice called… beckoned him to him to come back. He concentrated hard and could just make out a shadowy form and blond hair. But he confused and wondered why the guide would want him to suffer, to be in pain? Why should he go to such a painful place?

And yet… yet he found he had wanted to follow the guide. Then for whatever reason, the guide had changed. The guide's hand, which had been warm and inviting in the beginning, had gone cold. The guide's voice, the warmth in it, the deep concern he had heard in it, had changed. The words changed, asking him things that he wanted to forget.

The cold flooded him

Starsky shivered at the thought, reliving the memories of the guide as he directed Starsky to recall the reason he was here. The dead. Starsky had been surrounded by the dead. They, whoever 'they' were, had thought he was dead. They were going to cut him open and drain his blood. He had been stacked in a pile of corpses. The cold, stiff bodies sucked and pulled his warmth from him. Sucked his life from him. The voice as asked him to remember the horror of it all. To tell him how he felt, what he felt and thought as he lay buried in those bodies.

The voice… Starsky stopped walking. The voice had been different, changed. Perhaps that voice didn't belong to his guide. His guide had never asked him to remember anything. His guide asked only that he follow... follow the sound of his warm voice. And to… and to… there was one other thing that the voice of his guide had asked, but he couldn't remember what it was. Starsky concentrated as he walked along, trying to remember.

That was when he heard the faint echoes of the voice calling to him once more. Saying his name and asking for information. Starsky mentally pulled back from the voice. It had taken him a while, but he now knew, deep down, that this was not his guide. This was a deceiver.

Starsky stopped walking. If that voice was a deceiver, what had happened to his guide?

Had his guide given up on him? Had it all been a trick of some sort? Where was this place? He hadn't always been here. That much he was sure of. He looked around at the field once more. Some of the lumps swayed as though buffeted by a non existent breeze. As he watched, one of the taller lumps pulled itself out of the ground and disappeared with a 'poof'. He hadn't been anywhere around it.

He shook his head. The other lumps did nothing. They didn't seem to react to the lump freeing itself. Thinking back, nor had they reacted when he pulled someone out of the ground. The more he thought about this place. The stranger it was. The white spaces. The odd lump filled field… where lumps, when pulled out of the ground turned into humans and then disappeared. He seemed to be the only 'mobile' person around.

What happened to the people to make them into lumps? And what happened to them once they came out to the ground? Were they dead? If they weren't dead, where did they go? It was so confusing.

XXXX

Young Kenny Hutchinson could sense him closing in. Getting closer. Ever closer. He held his breath and held perfectly still. If his father couldn't see him, he couldn't find him. If his father couldn't find him, Kenny knew he wouldn't get the crap beat out of him. For now. He could live with having the beating come later. They always did, regardless of what he did or did not do.

He was his father's punching bag. Any excuse was a good one to Richard Hutchinson. And it was always his fault. Nothing he ever did was good enough.

If he didn't get straight A's, it was because he wasn't applying himself. –WHAM! - Or trying hard enough –WHAP! - Or maybe it was because he was a slacker –SLAP! - Or just plain stupid –SMACK!-

It really didn't matter to Richard Hutchinson. Any reason would work. If it were too sunny; or cloudy or whatever the trouble was, it was always his fault. Kenny chewed nervously on his lip, trying to breathe as shallowly as possible. He slowly curled into a ball. Experience had taught him to do that. He could then 'roll' with the punches or kicks.

He thought back to when he had tried to tell his father's best friend, George Phillips, about his father and what he did. Kenny had figured that maybe, just maybe, Mr. Phillips could talk some sense into his father. They were best friends after all. Kenny had never heard his children complain about their father beating them, so he gambled that the man could stop his father.

It hadn't worked. George Phillips did not believe him and thought Kenny was lying. And since he was lying, Mr. Phillips told his father all about what he had told him, which promptly led to the worst beating that Kenny had ever gotten. It was then that the truth had finally sunk in. No one would believe him.

Not ever.

Everyone thought his father was the salt of the earth. A wonderful friend and neighbor. Richard Hutchinson would give the shirt off of his back to help someone. That's what everybody thought. Everybody but Kenny, his sister and his mother, they knew better. The genial attitude was a façade. Richard had a bad side to him that he hid very well from the rest of the world.

'Please don't let him see me, please don't let him see me.' His father came closer. Young Kenny curled up tighter, pulling his knobby knees up tight under his nose, wrapping his arms around them to hold them in place. His arms quivered with the strain. He wished his legs weren't so long. He seemed to trip over everything these days.

'You're so clumsy, you even trip on your own shadow.' his father had mocked him earlier today.

Kenny could sense him out there, getting closer and closer. 'Please don't let him see me, please don't let him see me…'

XXXX

The Other shot The Visitor a superior look. _(I told you I knew how to get to the guide. He is losing ground and will sink into the field soon.)_

_You are correct. Perhaps you were correct in bringing him here. He will fit in nicely in the field. This one was easy compared to Starsky-_

_(Do not say his name! Names have power.)_

The Visitor said nothing. Then they went back to focusing their thoughts on the guide, encouraging him to go deeper and deeper in to the field. Encouraging him to remember things he would rather forget.

XXXX

"I need to see those x-rays now." Doctor Montgomery called as he entered the prep area.

"Here they are sir." The lab tech handed over the x-rays.

Montgomery grabbed the manila folder and flipped it open as he strolled to the backlight, jammed the x-rays into place and then he flicked the light on. He stared for a very long time at the pictures, puzzled by what he saw.

XXXX

Kenny Hutchinson could sense his father staring at the spot where he was hidden. He held his breath and waited, all the while wishing he had never been born. Wishing he could just disappear and never come back. If he could just make himself invisible, his father would never find him. He would never be hit again. He squeezed his eyelids together and wished as hard as he could to just blend into the scenery. Blend and fade away into nothingness.

XXXX

The Visitor and The Other silently watched as the blond lost all form and slipped into the ground to become just another lump in the field.

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

Hi All,

Thanks for taking the time to read this (and other) chapters. Double thanks for your reviews!

As always, special thanks to the Unusual Suspects. I just couldn't do this without you ladies. _(Hugs)_

**Chapter 9**

Starsky continued to make his way through the field. A sudden shiver wracked his body. _'Like someone just walked on my grave'_ he paused and looked cautiously about. It wasn't right. Something wasn't right. _'But what?'_ He asked himself. He found that he was in a part of the field where the lumps were much smaller then they had been elsewhere.

This part of the field seemed… he struggled for a word befitting the area… neglected came to mind, it wasn't _quite_ right, but it would have to do. He found himself staring at one of the little lumps and watched as it grew smaller and smaller. The ground around it gradually pulled tighter, like it was cinching out a wrinkle in a bed sheet until it appeared as though nothing had ever been in that spot at all.

_Beautiful, isn't it?_

The voice of The Visitor startled him and interrupted his thoughts. Starsky looked up from the now unblemished spot where a small lump had been. "No… I don't think it's beautiful."

_Peaceful, then?_ The Visitor prompted.

"Nnnooo…" He drew the word out, unsure just how he should feel about the lump disappearing. A frown crawled across his lips, worming his lips around as his eyebrows knitted in thought. His unease grew, he didn't know why.

_Perhaps one day you will see the beauty of it. It is perfect… it is liberating. _

Starsky stepped back from the misty cloud that made up the form of The Visitor. "Thanks but no thanks. See ya." He turned his back on The Visitor and walked away.

The Visitor moved back in front of him, he stepped around it. _Don't you want to listen to your guide? I think I can hear him calling you. _

Starsky stopped a moment and listened. He could hear a voice talking to him. Wanting him to answer. Wanting him to remember what had happened to him and talk about it.

Memory shifted and once again dead fingers dragged at him, icy cold and stiff. He made is way further into the field, though it felt now like he was walking in mud. Starsky stopped listening. "No thanks."

_You don't have to listen, if you don't want to._ The Visitor sounded as though he didn't care.

Starsky could almost see the vaporous form shrug as he continued his directionless trek. "Okay, I won't."

The Visitor moved back into his path. _You do not have to. Where do you want to go then? _

That brought the brunet to a halt. Where did he want to go? "Does it matter?" He said as he stepped forward once more. The Visitor backed up, but stayed directly in front of him.

_If you're lost, I can lead you back to where you started. I understand that you mor- you might not want to ask for directions. I will tell no one._ The Visitor said in a reasonable voice as it drew in a bit, the vapor became slightly more opaque then before.

Intuition kicked in a little. Starsky altered his course slightly and the being stopped following him. He headed back in his original direction and The Visitor shifted and moved back in front of him.

_Please, I can see you are tired. Wouldn't you like to rest?_ The tone was spoken in much the same manner that The Visitor always used. Calm and reassuring.

Starsky's brow knitted. He _was_ tired and getting more tired as each moment passed. But something was in that direction, the same direction The Visitor did not want him to go in. "Thanks, but no thanks, maybe later." He began to walk a little faster.

The Visitor glided before him, the mist that made up its body started to slowly swirl around.

Then, behind him, Starsky heard a voice call for help. He slowed. Intuition wanted him to continue the way he was headed. But the cry for help was strong as well.

'_Help!'_

The voice sounded young.

'_Please help me!'_

Feminine.

'_Please help! I'm scared!'_

Starsky pulled to a halt, torn at which way to go. There didn't seem to be anything in the direction he was headed. But most certainly there was someone who needed help. The pleading voice sounded young as well. He remembered the little redheaded girl. What would have happened if he had not gone to her? She had poofed and disappeared after he pulled her out…

What should he do?

'_Help! Please, someone, help!'_

He took another step towards the sound. He shuddered to think about what might happen if he didn't go help.

'_Pwease help! Pwease?'_

Starsky hurried in that direction, unable to leave a small child stuck in the ground and calling for help.

XXXX

The Visitor reformed next to The Other. _He took the bait. It was a close thing_.

_(Are you sure?)_

_Yes, I am certain. _

_(Good, I have Brockman talking to him.)_

_Yes, I prompted Sta-_The Visitor caught himself, then continued _**him** to listen to the man. He started to sink a little then. We just need to encourage that a little more and he will be ours. _

_(Did I not tell you this would work? I knew it was the right course of action to bring the guide here. The curly headed one will join the rest soon as has his guide.)_

The beings looked at the slowly shrinking lump before them. Very soon it would be too late to stop it from the inevitable change that was taking place.

XXXX

Doctor Montgomery stared at the x-ray. It didn't make any sense. The subdural hematoma they had noticed before; appeared to be no bigger then it had been earlier. The treatment they had providing had indeed slowed the bleed. So why was the man convulsing? Why were his vitals growing shakier?

He shook his balding head. Nothing with these two seemed to go as it should. Perhaps the angle of the x-ray was not giving him the total picture. Perhaps there was something he was missing. He could just go to the spot with the hematoma and make a small hole and remove the blood. That should relieve the pressure on his brain and stop the convulsing. It was all he could do for now.

XXXX

Starsky quit running. He never seemed to get any closer to the child who called out. He stood and looked around. He was back in a part of the field that had taller lumps. A memory flitted through his mind, that of a bird flapping on the ground with a broken wing. He remembered seeing one, at some point in time. It had flapped and dragged its wing along the ground, looking terribly vulnerable. He wanted to help the bird, pick it up and take it to a vet. But a voice, a kind and warm voice, laughed at him and his efforts.

"_The bird is just pretending Starsk. It's not really hurt. She is leading you away from her nest, offering herself up as a larger meal then small chicks or eggs. But if you get too close, she'll fly away a little ways, only to start all over again." _

He shook his head at the odd notion. Was it a memory? Or was it just an odd random thought. The voice sounded like that of his guide. But how could that be? He concentrated hard. He could remember hearing the voice of his guide echoing in his head _'follow me, follow my voice… and you must…'_ What must he do? What was it that his guide wanted? He was getting confused again.

He looked down and his feet appeared to be melting into the ground. Starsky panicked and pulled at his feet. It was like pulling them out of mud. He tugged, jerked and finally wrenched himself free. He backed away from that spot. His breath came in pants as he stared at the ground before him.

'_Leading you a-way… a-way… a-way…'_ The guide's voice echoed in his mind.

The call of a bird followed him _'kil-deer, kil-deer, kil-deer'_ it was the same bird that would pretend it had a broken wing to lead predators away from its young to protect them.

Starsky knew now he had been following a bird whose wing wasn't really broken… he had been following the voice of a child who wasn't really there. He had been led away from that part of the field because… why? What was The Visitor protecting? Or was it trying to keep him from seeing something?

His guide's voice echoed and mingled with the voice from the past. _'Follow me… follow my voice… she's leading you away from her nest… follow me.'_

Starsky turned on his heel and headed back the way he had come. Where they protecting something or hiding something? Either way, he would find out the reason for the deception.

XXXX

Berry stared down at the still man in the bed. The monitors beeped and the detective's chest rose and fell. The eyeballs twitched under the eyelids. This was ranking as one of the all-time most boring things he had done to get a story. He had tried talking to the man. He had gently rubbed the exposed arm and had even combed his fingers through the curls, as he had seen Hutchinstein do. It gave him no thrill. The guy just lay there like a lump. A big boring lump.

Then again, he didn't want the excitement of other seizure, or whatever that the man had gone through been earlier. That had been disturbing. Though he had to admit, hearing the guy talk about what it had been like being buried under bodies had been interesting. It would be better if the guy woke up. Or died. That way the story could then be wrapped up. All this waiting sucked, it was what he hated most about his job.

Berry's mind strayed back to the blond cop and his fall. He wasn't responsible for that. He had gotten scared, that's all. It was just a little push… It wasn't his fault the guy was a klutz. It was very possible that when the blond cop woke, he would remember nothing of the incident. Hell, after his fall, the cop's memory might be suspect. Berry knew he stood a pretty good chance of Hutchinstein not remembering the incident at all and hopefully the events leading up to it as well.

Berry looked at the door behind him. Part of him wanted to bolt from the room; head back to his motel, crawl into bed and pretend that none of this had ever happened. The realist in him knew better. If he left now and the blond cop awoke, it might make him look guilty. But, if he stayed and made it look like he were simply waiting for Starsky to wake up… it might turn out okay. Sure, Blondie might be mad about him being in the room,_ if _he found out. Berry hoped that the detective would not. It would make his life a whole lot easier.

_(Just keep talking to him. You will see… you will get your story, trust me.)_

Well, if his intuition was correct, then he should just keep on talking to the man. It certainly wouldn't harm the guy. Berry began to speak softly to the unconscious man, nearly crooning to him, trying to repeat what and how the blond had said to his partner. Berry nearly snickered at that. _'Yeah, partner, in more ways then one!'_

However, getting the story was important and Berry would do what he could to make the best out of it. He placed his hand on the exposed forearm and continued to talk to the detective. "C'mon… buddy, it's important that you tell me what happened… ummm… it's vital… I need to know what happened so I can help you."

The unconscious man shifted slightly under his hand and Berry wondered, what, if anything was going through detective Starsky's mind right now.

XXXX

Starsky kept his eyes on the ground, trying to return to where, leery of being sucked into it the nearly featureless landscape. The Visitor had intercepted him. The sound of the non existent child calling for help had followed him back for a while as he had retraced his steps. Finally, he could no longer hear it. A small part of him worried that he was wrong and that there really had been another little girl needing his help. But a much larger part of him was certain there was something else going on, something that The Visitor wanted him to stay away from.

He walked on began to feel depressed. It inched its way into his mind. The further he walked, the more depressed he became. What was the point to this? Was there any point to anything? What mattered? Maybe nothing mattered and why should it? Starsky slowed as those thoughts swirled around in his head. Those thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of a voice; it was soft, but not that of his guide. Starsky stop to listen for a moment.

'_C'mon buddy, it's important that you tell me what happened… ummm…it's vital… I need to know what happened so I can help you." _

Starsky then had a prickly sensation on his right arm; the feeling was that of ants crawling on it. It happened again and he brushed at his arm. The voice continued to buzz in his ear, it was more annoying then helpful, and so he stopped listening.

The field opened up more and the white fog lifted some. Starsky could now see both The Visitor and The Other in the distance. They were gliding in a slow circle around a lump. He drew closer and watched as the lump shrunk. Every so often one of the two beings swooped in close to the lump and it would get smaller.

His right arm got that _ants-crawling-on-it_ feeling once again and the voice buzzed louder in his ear. And again, one of the mist being's slipped close to the lump, the lump responded by pulling itself further into the ground. Starsky broke into a trot as he moved towards them. He didn't know why, The Visitor and The Other were not seeming to do anything to the lump, but each time one of them dipped close to it, it got smaller. It felt _wrong_ though.

The beings took no notice of his approach. The lump quivered and drew into itself a little more.

Starsky's stomach clenched a bit at the sight. "Hey, what's goin' on here?"

One of the beings swirled around. It was hard to tell if it was looking at him. They did not have faces, or at least, not that he could see. Starsky wondered why he hadn't noticed that before.

_Greetings, what are you doing here?_ It was The Visitor who spoke.

"What're you doin'?" Starsky could not see through the opaque mist that made up parts of The Visitor.

_Nothing that concerns you. Come with me, please, I have something I want to show you._

"Ya know, I'm more interested in what's happenin' right here." Starsky stepped around The Visitor's swirling form.

_It is nothing. Come with me and I will show you something of interest to you_.

The Visitor sounded calm, but Starsky wasn't so sure that was the case. He could see the lump quiver and get smaller. "Maybe later." He moved closer to the lump and was confronted with The Other.

_(You need to leave now. This does not concern you.)_ The Other glided back to the lump and reached out, the lump shook once more as a tendril of mist touched it.

"Stop that!" Starsky didn't know what was going on, or why it bothered him that The Other and The Visitor where revolving around the solitary lump. Nor did he know why it was getting smaller and smaller. He only knew that he did not like it.

The Visitor swirled back in front of him. The once loose cloud like form was spinning in on itself, like a top. The 'body' of mist going from white to a light gray and growing more and more opaque with each turn.

Starsky, feeling belligerent, stepped forwards, walking into the mist instead of around it, as he had always done before. A gale force wind issued from within The Visitor and flung him away. _'Okay, that was a bad idea.'_ He thought as he picked himself off the ground.

The Visitor was now a small, tightly spinning tornado, blocking his path. Peering around it, Starsky could see the lump shrink into the ground a bit more. Instinct guided his feet and he darted around the furiously spinning Visitor.

As he neared the lump, The Other, now also in a whirlwind, spun towards him. Starsky dropped and rolled underneath it, managing to grab what little was left of the lump. He hung on tightly and pulled at it. It pulled down and away from him. Remembering the last time this had happened, Starsky hung on for all he was worth "C'mon! Don't do this!" He muttered through clenched teeth. "Work with me here!" He pulled up on it, digging his heels in and strained upwards.

Starsky waited for The Visitor and The Other to try something. He didn't know what to expect, but what he had not expected, was for them to be gone. He blinked and looked about. He could not see them. _'Good'_ he thought as he renewed his struggle with the lump.

XXXX

Berry stared at the body in the bed beside him. A series of thoughts floated into his brain. He continued to stare at the detective and listened as the heart monitor picked up its pace.

XXXX

The blond detective started to seize once more. Doctor Montgomery watched as the man's body arched upwards until only his heels, head and shoulders remained on the gurney.

XXXX

Starsky was using both hands now. The lump was coming up little by little. But he could not relax his grip, the moment he did that, the lump pulled back down a fraction. "C'mon! Please, work with me here… I'm… just… tryin'… ta… help… ya!"

"NO!" The lump pulled back a little.

The voice was that of a boy. Starsky was startled at the sudden response, but kept pulling "C'mon kid, I just wanna help you." He tugged again.

"No! I'm not goin' back."

Starsky's lips tightened. "Why not?" He kept a hold, but did not pull this time. Perhaps he could get the kid to help him.

"I'm… just not goin', 'kay?" There was a deep sadness in the boy's voice. "Just leave me 'lone, I'll be fine."

'_Poor kid'_ Starsky swallowed hard. He didn't believe the boy and could not leave him like this, where in might sink into the ground, all alone. "Hey… Come on outta there, let's talk about it."

The lump gave a hard jerk down, nearly breaking Starsky's hold. "Please kid? I just what to talk to you. If you don't like what I have to say, then I'll leave you alone, okay?"

The lump came out of the ground reluctantly and began to take form when darkness enveloped him and Starsky lost contact with the strange white world around him. He was beyond feeling when his body hit the ground.

The tow-headed boy stood over the body and looked at the man who had pulled him from his hiding place. He carefully looked around the area, but did not see his father anywhere. He sat down next to the unconscious man, unsure of what to do next.

**TBC**


	10. Chapter 10

Hi All,

I hope you enjoy this chapter. All that is left of this story is the epilogue. Enjoy!

Special thanks to Kreek, who gives me email kicks to my butt when I need it. I'm posting, I'm posting! Geez… _-VBG-_

Oh and Happy 9th birthday Rudy! _(HUGS!)_

**Chapter 10**

"Mister?" Kenny looked at the man on the ground and then looked about the mist-shrouded area, puzzled by his surroundings. The last thing he remembered was that he had been running away from his father and had hidden in the garage, under the workbench and behind some boxes. He prayed that his dad wouldn't find him. And he prayed that he would just disappear. He had felt himself slipping away and had been happy about it. Glad that he could really go away and escape. No more being hit. No more wondering when his father would explode and strike out.

Then, just when he thought he was free, his father had closed in on his hiding place, angrily whispering to Kenny just what he would do when he finally found him. He had buried his face in his flexed legs, his arms holding his knees tightly to his chest, making himself as small as he possibly could.

But, his father had found him and had reached for him under the workbench. Kenny knew then he was really in for it. Not only had he hidden from his father, he hadn't come out right away when he had been found. That was something that never failed to make father mad. Very, very mad. He had pulled into himself, cringing against the inevitable. He knew he was seconds away from a very bad beating.

He pulled away from his father's touch, even though this would stoke his father's rage. All he wanted to do was fade away into nothing. He felt very close to his goal when something very odd had happened. His father's hand had dissolved. The rest of him slowly followed, like the Cheshire cat from 'Alice in Wonderland', but not even leaving a smile behind. It was a difficult notion to grasp, but that was what had happened.

A hand grabbed him as the last of his father evaporated. He flinched and tugged hard to break away, thinking that father was the one to go invisible and not him. The one hand was joined by a second and Kenny began to struggle harder, unable to stop; even though he knew it was only going to make things worse for himself.

But then his father spoke. Only, it wasn't father's voice. It was someone else's. He kept resisting, thinking that this was just a new trick father was using to get him to come out. Like the time that father had called to him, saying, _"Come here Kenny, I won't hurt you."_ It had been a lie; like so many others and he never fell for it again.

Only the hands that grabbed him weren't his father's. He knew them all too well. The hold these hands had on him was different. The grip was firm, but not binding or cruel. He couldn't explain how those hands were different. He allowed himself to be dragged out of his hiding place. But he didn't give up easily; it just wasn't in his nature to do so, despite what father always said.

When at last he was pulled from under the workbench, Kenny looked about, noticing for the first time that he was no longer in the garage at all, but in a strange, foggy place. He looked up at the man that had pulled him out from under the bench.

It was not his father. Kenny was startled. The man was so unlike his father, he had dark brown curly hair, was a bit shorter and stockier then father. The stranger's piercing dark blue eyes were his most striking feature. Those eyes seemed to drill right into his very soul, and found something worthy there. Kenny blinked. That had never happened before. He had always been measured by his father's standards and he always came up short. But not in this man's eyes.

They locked gazes. The man's hand engulfed his smaller one, but Kenny felt no fear. He felt a… connection. As he came to that realization, the man's eyes rolled upwards and he fell to the ground and lay there.

Perplexed, Kenny sat beside the stranger, worried and unsure what to do. He looked again for father, but did not see him. He didn't see any one or any thing. Kenny returned his gaze to the curly haired man and noticed that the stranger was beginning to lose form and sink into the ground. The ground seemed to be swallowing him up.

Panic set in as Kenny grabbed the man's arm and began to pull up, trying to keep the man's head above the ground.

XXXX

The Other left The Visitor to work directly against the detectives. It slipped in and began to take possession of the newsman.Things were not going the way they had planned and but he was about to take a more active roll and change all that.

XXXX

Boredom, that's what this was, pure, unadulterated boredom. Berry yawed widely, his jaw popped as it was stretched to near-dislocation. He sat watching the detective's chest slowly rise and fall, his left-hand fingers drummed on the mattress as he sat there.

He kept his right hand on the man's forearm, rubbing it occasionally, it gave him no thrill. Hell, they could use this kind of thing to torture people with. The constant, regular beep of the monitors, the near hypnotic rise and fall of the detective's chest combined was mind numbingly boring. Berry's head slowly lowered until it landed on the mattress. He was asleep.

_(Look at him, just laying there like a lump. He'll probably be in a coma for years, taking up valuable hospital space and resources, like that Karen Ann Quinlan girl. He's probably brain damaged, and they'll most likely be lopping off parts of him due to the frostbite. He'd be better off dead. I know I'd hate to be like that. I'd want someone to put me out of my misery… it would be far more merciful to do that, rather then let them carve on me…I'd want to die. )_

Berry rose from his seat beside the unconscious detective. He had no control over his own body anymore. He was a marionette, with someone else pulling his strings. But he didn't seem to care that he couldn't control himself. He grabbed a pillow from the other bed in the room and placed it over Detective Starsky's face.

Berry then realized he must be asleep and dreaming all this, so he gave into the small inner voice that urged him on. A part of him enjoyed what he was doing; the other part questioned whether this was healthy, even in one's dreams.

_(But it's only a dream, there is no harm in dreaming, is there?)_ His inner voice coaxed him on, _(it would be a mercy to die then to live like that, a senseless lump, having frostbitten parts cut off of me… have pity, do the right thing)._

_(Do it!)_ His subconscious was encouraging him to continue. It was all a dream, so what harm was in that? He pressed down gently, but firmly.

_(Do it!)_ The man in the bed didn't move. Berry pressed a little harder.

XXXX

Kenny pulled harder. He wasn't strong enough. He was going to fail. He was a failure, just like father always said he was. He was a disappointment. Kenny felt his grip slip a little bit.

The curly haired man was becoming more of a shapeless blob with each passing moment.

Kenny's stomach turned. Father was right. He was all knees and elbows and had two left feet.

_Weakling_

He could almost hear his father hiss in his ear.

_Worthless_

The blond youth could not stop the sound his father's voice and words in his head. His sweaty hands slipped from their hold on the man's elbow, then to his wrist and then his hand.

_I knew you couldn't do it._ His father sounded smug.

Kenny tightly gripped that hand. It was the man's left one. Kenny could feel something dig painfully into his finger. It wasn't skin or bone. The skin of his right hand pinky finger was being pinched. He tried to ignore the pain. He could feel the skin begin to tear a little, as the man was being pulled under the sucking ground. He now only held on to the man by his fingertips. He could now see what had torn the skin on his finger. Two rings were on the man's pinky finger.

_Just give up. _

Kenny felt himself tear up at father's words. He blinked the tears out of his eyes and refocused on the man. Everything seemed to come to a halt as he stared at those rings. The man slipped into the ground a little further. Kenny lost his grip for a second, but caught the hand once more. He was not going to fail. He was not worthless. He dug in with his heels and hauled backwards. This man, this stranger, had seen some worth in him. He was not about to let that moment of good feeling slip away.

_Give up._ His father hissed loudly.

"No!" Kenny pulled harder; if this man believed him to have worth… then maybe father was wrong about him. That thought gave him strength and he hauled back harder. As he pulled, the man began to come back out of the ground. It dawned on him that this was the fate this stranger had saved _him_ from. He had been saved from becoming nothing.

_GIVE UP!_

Kenny ignored his father's command and looked, really looked at the stranger's face. But it wasn't a stranger. It was someone who thought of him as worthy… worth being saved. His self-confidence grew. He could do this. Correction, he would do this. Kenny dug in with his heels.

_Give up! He is nothing to you!_ Father shouted.

"He is everything to me!" Hutch hollered back at his father. But his father wasn't there. It was just him and Starsky, in a strange white space. Hutch blinked. Realities had changed. He was no longer a boy afraid of his father and his father's rejection. He was a man and he had worth, regardless of what anyone else said or did.

A white tornado formed next to the blond and raged at him. _You must leave here now!_

Hutch was startled, but pulled Starsky completely free of the sucking ground. "He's going with me!" He sat down and hauled his limp friend into his lap. "C'mon Starsk-" he patted the still face, he watched as Starsky's eyelids fluttered. Encouraged, Hutch patted again.

_GO!_ The whirlwind shouted, sounding furious.

Hutch was enveloped in a hurricane force wind, he could feel his friend's weight being ripped from him "Starsky! Follow me! Starsky! Follow me and -" There was a brilliant flash and Hutch closed his eyes against the brightness of the light. The wind stopped as abruptly as it started, and he opened his eyes.

XXXX

Starsky tried to sit up. He couldn't. It was as if something were pushing him down. It was so hard to breathe. He was no longer in the white space he had been before. He was back in that dark, cold place where dead things resided. He could hear the echo of his guide calling to him.

'_Follow me! Follow me!' _The voice echoed.

It was his guide this time. Not a deceiver, not a fake. He didn't know how he knew this, but it was the truth. His guide wanted him to follow. Starsky knew he must follow… follow and… what? What must he do? The dark cold pulled at him, robbing him of his breath. The pressure increased. Cold, dead fingers clutched at him, scrabbling for purchase on his shivering skin. "NO!"

XXXX

Hutch sat up and immediately hands began to push him back down. "NO! Starsky!"

"Easy there detective." Montgomery's voice coaxed "You had a nasty fall, just lay back and relax."

Hutch allowed himself to be eased back down onto the gurney. He had a splitting headache. "Ow, my head." He raised his hands to head so he could keep it from rolling off of his neck and onto the floor.

"You had a nasty fall on the steps."

"No kidding." Hutch groaned and kept his eyes closed at the bright lights overhead.

Montgomery then proceeded to ask him the standard questions about what day it was and who the president was and other such annoying questions.

Hutch answered, slowly but correctly. Thinking hurt. It was the doctor's next question that got to him. "Do you remember why you're here?"

The memories flooded in; a deluge of information swamped him "Starsky!" Hutch pushed away his pain and sat up quickly, his stomach lurched, bile rose to the back of his throat and burned there. He swallowed hard to force it back down as the room spun around him. He succeeded in stopping the urge to vomit, but just barely.

"Hey, hold on there a minute," Montgomery grabbed his arm firmly. "You need to lie back down and relax."

"No! Starsky… I gotta get back to him." The blond eased his legs off the side of the gurney and stood up. His legs threatened to give away. Hutch ignored the threat and pushed away from the bed.

"Your friend is fine or I would have gotten a call, okay? You're about to fall flat on your face, please, lay down." Montgomery nodded at a nurse and she put her hand on the detective's other arm. "You're in no condition to stand let alone go to your friend just yet."

Hutch jerked out of their grasp. He had a feeling Starsky needed him.

XXXX

"Berry! What the hell are you doing?"

At the sound of his cameraman's alarmed voice, Berry awoke to find that he was doing what he had been dreaming about and quickly released his hold on the pillow like it was a hot coal, it tumbled off the injured man's face and it fell to the floor. He shook himself and goose bumps appeared on his arms. "Um… nothing… I wasn't doing anything."

"That's bullshit and you know it!" Rob gasped out.

"Shut up Rob; let's just get the hell outta here. This story's a dead end." Berry shouldered his way by the stunned cameraman and down the hall to the stairwell. He couldn't quite shake the creepy feeling of the dream he had had and of watching what was going on and not being able to control it, not that he had tried very hard. He suddenly felt quite sick.

"Christ Berry! What the hell were you doing back there?" Rob Baker rasped as he trotted along beside his coworker.

"Shut the hell up Rob!" Berry hissed back. "Just remember I have those pictures of you and Cindy from Accounting, so unless you want me to send 'em to your wife… Just shut the hell up, okay?" He just wanted to leave this hospital, the two bad-luck homo detectives and try to forget this day had ever happened. He'd think of something to tell his producer, or a better story might come along.

Berry silently prayed for a better story, perhaps he could work in an angle on this snowstorm, it was going to be the lead story in the morning anyway, maybe there would be a horrible vehicle pile up. His fingers itched to turn on the news van's police scanner.

XXXX

The Other was pitched from the newsman and was flung back to the place where The Vistor was struggling to maintain his hold on their remaining victim… what did humans say about a bird in hand? He added his efforts to The Visitor's; they would not lose this one. He was theirs.

XXXX

Hutch shook Doctor Montgomery and the nurse off and headed down the hall to get to Starsky's room. He didn't notice that his hospital gown was not tied in back and his butt was on display for all to see. But at this point, the blond would not have cared if he had noticed. Starsky needed him.

Montgomery and a gaggle of nurses tried to restrain him, but he simply increased his speed and bolted for Starsky's room.

An overhead page added to the cacophony in the hallway. _"Code blue 514, code blue, room 514." _

Hutch's heart joined his nauseous stomach in his throat as he realized that was Starsky's room. He broke into a run, his bare feet slapping loudly on the linoleum floor. He could hear the small crowd of people following him, but their importance diminished as he rounded the corner and headed directly to Starsky's room.

He burst through the door and gained his friend's side, his left foot hit something soft on the floor; he simply kicked it out of his way as he leaned in close and took a gentle hold of Starsky's forearm.

"Starsk? Starsky? C'mon buddy, don't do this! Please… please follow my voice."

"You need to leave sir!" A nurse grabbed his elbow and tugged.

"NO! He needs me… Starsky… listen, listen to me, please! I know what is wrong now-"

"What's wrong is that he isn't breathing! Out!" The nurse pushed her way in between him and Starsky. "Will one of you help me? Get him out of here!"

The small room was soon filled with nurses and techs.

Hutch was grabbed by his arms and hauled backwards "NO! No! Stop, he needs me to be here… Starsky, just follow my voice, okay? Just follow my voice!" He strained forwards, trying desperately to get back to his friend's side.

The nurse in front of him shoved him away from the bed. "Some one call security!"

"Starsky! C'mon… Hey! Let me go! Can't you see he needs me?" The blond alternately called to his friend and begged/demanded them to let him go. More hands grabbed him and began to bodily remove him from the room.

"NO!" Hutch grabbed onto either side of the doorframe and held on, as he wedged his right foot in between the door and frame, simultaneously hooking his left to the opposite side, looking for all the world like a cat someone was trying to stuff in a pet carrier. "No! You don't understand! Starsk… fight! Fight them, damn you! Fight!"

Someone started to pry his tightly gripping fingers away from the each side of the frame. They finally succeeded in tearing him from the doorway, pulling him into the hallway, with Hutch fighting their every move.

"Let him go." Doctor Montgomery wheezed as he approached the group.

The throng maintained their grip on the struggling blond.

"I said let him go! Do it!" The portly doctor's tone was resolute. The nurses and orderlies released the patient.

Hutch nodded briefly at the doctor before bolting back to his partner's side. "Starsk? Starsk, come back… please?" he carefully gripped his partner's arm, just above the white bandages on his hands. "Just follow my voice, okay?"

Hutch's world had collapsed into itself until all the distractions faded away until there were only two people in the room. He could sense activity around him, but none of it really registered. It was like a buzz of a florescent light fixture, white noise. He ignored it as best as he could as he reached out with his very being to his best friend. His nausea and headache faded into that background.

Further away in that background, he sensed as the doctor nodded at the nurses that were working around the patient. One nurse had intubeated Starsky; the other was using a bag valve mask to force air into his lungs. Under his fingers, Hutch could feel the weak and thready pulse of his best friends blood in his veins. He kept up his steady talk, reaching out with every fiber of his being to reach Starsky.

XXXX

The pressure was removed as suddenly as it had arrived. He could breathe. Starsky inhaled. The cold darkness lifted. He could hear his guide whispering to him and he listened intently. He nodded once and proceeded to follow the sound of his guide's voice.

_You cannot leave_. The Visitor said as it formed before him.

"I am leaving now, you can't stop me." Starsky knew what to do now and briefly wondered how he had ever been fooled by The Visitor.

The vaporous form of The Other joined that of The Visitor, blocking his path. Starsky stepped around them as he harkened to the voice of his guide.

_You cannot leave._ The Visitor repeated.

"Watch me." Starsky continued to walk and with each step he took, things became clearer to him.

The two beings of vapor moved in front of him once more.

Starsky turned his attention away from the misty pair, to the field of lumps that stretched out before him. "These are all people, aren't they? Each one is trapped here. Maybe they're in a coma. Maybe they are catatonic or have some other mental illness. Perhaps even some of them are depressed. Something brings them here and once they are here, it's your job to keep them here, isn't it?"

The vapor beings swirled, but did not respond.

"So, the way I figure it is this, the ones that disappear into the ground die. Right?" Starsky didn't wait for them to answer, "The ones that I pulled free, or that somehow free themselves… come out of their coma, depression or whatever…" He knew he was on the right track as he could see the vapor beings swirling tighter and tighter, a sure sign that they were angry or upset.

"Why are you so upset? Is it because I freed some of them? It must happen all the time, why get so worked up about losing me?" The detective stopped for a long moment as he pondered his own question. He could hear his guide calling to him and he listened for a long moment.

"I think I know what you are and what this place is…" Starsky swept his hand out, indicating the whole field. "You draw your strength from people brought here. Maybe you even posses people, if they have a moment of weakness… you feed off of them. I have noticed you don't use names, not even your own. There is power in names. It makes people human, not just some lump that takes up space. You can't be something like anger or hostility… they are more active, direct… you two are subtler then that. You like to take things away from people, their identity and their individualism. You want every thing to be the same… you, in some ways are even more dangerous then anger, rage or hostility put together."

The vapor beings closed in on him, each a mini tornado.

"I'm on the right track, ain't I?" Starsky stepped back away from the beings. "You make people think that they are nothing, that they are useless, worthless, that there is no need from them… you are apathy and indifference."

Reality snapped as the twin whirlwinds collided with him and Starsky found himself in a gray haze. "Terrific."

He put his hands on his hips and scanned his new surroundings. "Hello? Is anyone here?"

In the distance he could hear his guide calling him. Starsky began walking towards the sound. "Yeah, yeah Blondie, I'm comin'. Just keep talkin'… I know, follow your voice, that's what I'm doin', following your voice… but what else is it that you want me to do?" Starsky sped up a little; he was weary but determined to reach that friendly, warm voice, the voice of someone who cared, who was never apathetic or indifferent to anyone.

XXXX

"Follow my voice Starsky, c'mon buddy, I know you can do it." Hutch's voice was raw and cracking. He had been at this for over an hour now. His partner had started to breathe again on his own after a few very tense moments.

Doctor Montgomery had allowed him to stay, provided that he sat while he was here. He also knew that there was a nurse in the room with them. He understood that Montgomery was still very worried about his head injury. He rejected treatment for now. But the doctor insisted that his wear a nasal canula to help mitigate any problems that might yet arise. He refused pain medicine and couldn't take any aspirin since aspirin thins the blood and promotes bleeding.

Hutch rubbed his friend's arm once more and stretched out one long and kicked something soft. He looked down. There was a pillow on the floor. He broke contact with Starsky for a second and reached down to retrieve it. It must have been knocked there when they worked on Starsky. He tossed it haphazardly onto the bed behind him and went back to talking to his partner.

"C'mon Starsky… I know you're listening, I know you can hear me… follow my voice, please?" He blinked back a tear as he looked at the still face of his friend. The eyelids twitched. "Starsk?" there was a hopeful note in his voice. "Buddy? Can you hear me?"

XXXX

"Yes, I can hear you… I'm comin'." Starsky knew he close now. "Keep talkin'…" He could hear his guide… his friend… talking. "Yes, I'm following your voice, but what's that other thing you want me to do?"

XXXX

"Wake up, Starsky, please wake up." Hutch gently brushed his knuckles over one pale cheek, just to one side of the oxygen mask. "Please wake up."

The cheek under his knuckles twitched and the head moved.

"Starsk?" Hutch couldn't keep the hope from his voice. "Buddy?"

Starsky's head rolled slowly from side to side, then stilled. The eyelids slowly rose. Hutch could feel a smile forming on his lips. "Starsky… you did it."

Dark blue eyes took several long moments to adjust before locking on Hutch's own eyes. A weak smile formed under the mask. "I'm awake… are we late for work again?"

**Last chapter and Epilogue to follow.**


	11. Chapter 11

Well, folks here it is, the epilogue of "White Nightmare". Thanks to all of you who kept encouraging me to complete this story. Thanks for all of your reviews and emails. You kept me on the right track, even if it took me a long time to get back into this story, thank you for sticking with it.

Special thanks as always, to the Usual Suspects, a great bunch of ladies and each one a fantastic writer, or poet, in her own right and more importantly, a wonderful friend. _((HUGS!))_

**Epilogue **

Hutch watched his partner sleep. Just sleep this time and nothing more. He put a hand to his own bandaged and stitched head. He had gotten off 'lucky' with only hairline fracture in his skull and a serious concussion. He also had narrowly missed requiring surgery for a subdural hemorrhage. A second x-ray had shown that the spot on the film they had been concerned about was not there. They took another to be certain. Hutch was beginning to wonder if he would soon be getting cancer from all of those x-rays they were taking of his head. He had other aches from his fall as well. His whole right side was a mass of bruises. Moving was painful, but he hid that fact as best as he could.

Starsky was improving and in a lot of pain from the frostbitten areas of his body. That too was a good sign. Doctor Montgomery had informed them that if he did not have pain in those areas, then amputation was a certainty. They had been elated. The doctor cautioned them that amputation was not out of the question yet. It could be months before they would be sure.

Starsky had taken the news in stride, but Hutch was sickened by it. He silently berated himself that he hadn't found his partner quickly enough. And though Starsky's life was no longer in jeopardy, his ability to return to police work was still up in the air.

Hutch could feel his head start to pound with pain and his vision blurred for a moment. He put his right hand to his eyes, pressing at his temples with his thumb and middle finger to ease the pain there.

"You okay?"

He quickly put his hand down and reached out to grab Starsky's hand, which was reaching in his direction. That hand looked hideous; the frostbitten digits were now swollen and dark with dying skin near the fingertips and around the nails. Hutch took it carefully into his own hand. "Nah, 'm fine."

"Right. Is it time for your meds yet?"

"Starsky-"

"Don't _'Starsky'_ me, I'm a convalescent here. I can't get outta bed ta chase down a nurse for ya… though I wouldn't mind tryin', did you see that one? Candy… Sandy… whatever her name was, she's somethin' ta behold. I do love ta watch her walk out that door." Starsky's dark eyebrows arched wickedly as he smiled.

"Starsk, there ain't no way you're gonna be able to do anything about it. You're stuck in that bed for a while yet."

Starsky's grin widened "I don't have ta do anything but lay here… she could do all the work." He winked.

Hutch laughed. "Yeah, I think you're right. Me first though."

"Hey, my gate don't swing that way." His partner frowned at him.

"That's not what I meant, mush brain. I get first dibs with Candy/Sandy."

"Na-uh! I saw her first!" Starsky suddenly stopped and a slowly turned Hutch's hand over. "What's this?" he pointed to Hutch's right hand pinky finger.

Hutch looked down at the now-healing small rip in the skin on his finger, near where it connected to his palm. "It's nothing… "He frowned at it for a long moment. "Musta gotten it when I fell." He stared at it a long time; feeling that he was forgetting something very important. He shot a look at Starsky's left hand. The rings were gone. They had been taken off before his skin warmed up. That was done so that they wouldn't cut off his circulation as the digits swelled. He shook his head, dismissing the strange notion.

"What?"

"S'nothing"

"I know that look. It's something. What is it?" Starsky wheedled.

"Just that I guess I had some weird dream after taking that tumble on the step and knocking myself on the head. S'nothing." He shrugged.

"Huh, you had a weird dream? I should tell ya the one I had. I was in this lumpy field, tryin' ta pull lumps out and when I did, they turned inta people… First, I pulled a little redheaded girl out and a few others… one lump that I pulled on pulled back and I slammed inta the ground. Now that's a weird dream." The brunet nodded once firmly. "Bet ya can't top that."

Hutch could feel the line between his eyebrows deepen. "Did one of those lumps have blond hair?"

It was Starsky's turn to frown. "Come ta think of it… I think so… no… maybe… I donno… It's just a weird dream s'all." He shrugged and shifted positions in the bed.

"Yeah, weird." Hutch stared thoughtfully at his pinky. "Really weird."

"So… what was your weird dream?"

"Nothin'" seeing a determined look on Starsky's face, Hutch relented. "Oh, my dad was chasing me and I hid from him."

"Why was he chasing you?" Starsky sat up a little straighter in bed, clearly interested.

'S'nothin' Starsk. He didn't need an excuse and I don't wanna talk about it, okay? It's just a dumb dream."

"Huuuutch"

"Not gonna talk about it. It's history. Hey, let's watch some TV." Hutch got up and turned the television on.

"Don't change the subject. I wanna know why your dad was chasin' ya…" he stopped and stared at Hutch for a second, "what the hell are you wearing?" The brunet frowned, as he looked his partner up and down.

Hutch could feel his face heat as he blushed. He pulled at the bright lime green and orange polka dot shirt and striped pants. "I- mine are at the Laundromat… were… at the Laundromat… can't find 'em now. I-I went back for them; they were dirty, sweaty… after all that digging in the snow. I wanted to wash them and didn't have another set. Got these at the Goodwill store." He said defensively.

"I hope they paid you a lotta money ta take 'em, otherwise ya got ripped off." Starsky chuckled. "Ya better find somethin' else ta wear, or I'm gonna have a seizure." He mock cringed and squinted as he looked away.

"Shut up! It's not like I have a choice-" the blond pointed his right index finger at his partner. The phone rang just then, interrupting Hutch's defense of his apparel.

"Hello?... Who is this?... What?... What channel? …Hello? Hello?" Hutch stared at the receiver.

"Who was that?"

"Anonymous caller, he said we should watch the news tonight on WCAL." The blond got up and changed the channel on the TV, then headed back to Starsky's side and sat on the edge of his bed.

The new came on; they saw nothing special or out of the ordinary until a report by Berry Brockman came on. Hutch felt his hackles rise at the sight of that man. "Brockman…" he snarled angrily at the screen.

"Down boy" Starsky cautioned, "He's on TV and not in this room."

"I wish he were here." Hutch pounded his right fist his left palm with a loud smack.

"Shhh, let's watch, you said the caller wanted us to see something, and this must… be… it." Starsky slowed and then stopped speaking as he focused on the television.

"_Berry Brockman here with an update on that big collision on Big Top Road, Troy, roll that footage."_

Only what came on was not footage of a collision. It was footage of Berry pushing Hutch down some steps. The footage was jerky and at a strange angle. The film was probably from a small handheld camera, like an eight-millimeter. There was no sound. The scene changed unexpectedly from Hutch tumbling down the steps, to Berry placing a pillow over Starsky's face and pressing down. The film stopped abruptly and a sign popped onto the television screen _'Sorry! We are experiencing technical difficulties.'_

The two detectives stared at the screen for a second and then shot a look at each other. Hutch dove for the phone.

WCAL's newsman, Berry Brockman, was about to find himself in a whole shit load of trouble.

XXXX

_Davenport, Iowa_

A young mother smiled as she watched her daughter drawing a picture. The bright red ringlets bounced as her head moved with her efforts. She smiled wider as a little pink tongue popped out the corner of her mouth, a sure sign that Maria was really focusing on her task.

Several minutes later, Maria finished and proudly held it up. "See mommy? See what I drawed?"

She looked at her daughter's picture, though crude, she could clearly make out a man with dark brown, curly hair and blue eyes holding a little redheaded girl in his arms. "Honey, you got your daddy's hair color wrong, he had red hair, just like you."

Maria rolled her eyes. "That's not daddy."

"Who is it?"

"That's the angel that saved me."

"Angel? But he doesn't have any wings."

"Oh mommy, not _all_ angels have wings."

**The End**.


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